Sunday, September 28, 2008

Next time you better leave cookies!

It's official. I have a teenager. How else can you explain this? I know who it was and all I can say is, "Next time you better leave cookies!"
At aproximately 10:46pm last weekend my doorbell rang. Upon arriving at the door, this is what I saw! This is a first for us, and I'm afraid, not a "last". These were brave little souls because we still had our porch lights on, but it didn't stop them. It wasn't malicious and we KNOW they were girls! (They took the time to tear the plastic wrapper into strips and painstakingly tie bows on the railing.)

So, I took my "nearly 12" and "nearly 14" year old sons out to clean up the mess because clearly it was meant for one or both of them.
This is where things get interesting...

Son #2 is not known for his patience and he has reflexes like a cat. Anytime a car drove by during our clean up, he was SURE that it was the TP bandits coming back to mock us. There was one car in particular that slowed, turned off its lights and then stopped to watch. Like we couldn't see him? Anyway, the car eventually made what we thought would be it's final mocking drive-by so, of course, we all stopped to watch him watch us. Son #2 had apparently found a full roll of TP caught in the tree and now had it in his hand. When the car was directly in front of us the guy HONKED! Long and loud! Scared the pants off son #2 causing him to launch the soggy roll directly at the rear drivers-side window of the car. THUNK! Holy Crap! I though we were all dead! The boy is a pitcher and a darn good one at that! He hit his target dead on! Dangit! Well our not so happy rubber-necker proceeded to make a hasty U-turn and head back toward us. At this point my Mother Duck instinct kicked in and I ordered the kids behind me. I stood with my arms folded sternly across my chest (looking an awful lot like my own mother I'm sure) and stared down Mr Car. At some point he realized I was "a Mom" and he was "just a punk 16 year old kid", so he continued down the street never to be seen again. So the moral of the story is, if you're gonna toss things at cars, make sure your mom is there to back you up!

Not really....... I DID have a conversation with son#2 about his "rocket arm skills" and it went something like this:

Me - What the crap are you thinking? You don't throw things at cars!!!
Son#2 - I didn't mean to mom! It scared me and...and I just threw it!
Me - Well, don't EVER do that again!
Son#2 - Okay.
Me - Um..hey.
Son#2 - yeah?
Me - Nice arm.
Son#2 - Thanks.


MicheLLe said...

Oh, the days of toilet papering! Looks like they got you good!

Vennesa said...

You prefer cookies, i prefer that they come back and clean it up and if they ever do it again, I say throw their *&&#& in jail.
Thanks. I feel better.

veronica said...

And now we know that the "anger management" issue is hereditary!

Mindi said...

ahhhhh, toilet papering rules.

unless you are now a mom and have to direct someone to clean that shizz up, and then it sucks.

what happened to good, old-fashioned fun like soaping windows and doorbell ditching?

i think the police would be invovled with that now-a-days.