Tonight I looked like a thirty year old but acted like Eastwood in Gran Torino


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The topic title is as it is because it started when Megan and I started to watch The Curious Case of Benjamin Button tonight just after we put the boys to sleep.

It was still creepy short, digital Benjie when I heard the crack. It sounded like it came from upstairs but I decided to look through the blinds downstairs first and two kids, 13 maybe, were sitting on the front steps of a house across the street with a little gun with an orange tip. They pointed it up diagonally towards my house and then another crack. I ran up to see the large window in my staircase and it was crack free. A thud sounded. A beebee must have missed the window by a few inches.

So I went into my room to put on my jeans (didn't want to get violent with PJs you know?). But from my bedroom window I saw them point the gun down the street and fire and then point down the other direction at two friends coming up on bikes. They took off in the direction of their friends and I was crestfallen. Meg suggested I called the cops and i figured that they would visit the kids' parents. So I did. They were very concerned with guns of any kind so they sent someone out right away.

We sit down to watch the movie again and there's a noise outside like soft thuds. Like the one I heard upstairs. I saw them fucking with my For Sale sign on the lawn so i alked out the front door and the exchange went something like this:

Me: HEY!

Tall kid: Is this your sign? (looking scared right off the bat)

Me: Yeah it's my fucking sign. And it's my FUCKING window up there you shot at!

Tall kid and short kid: *lots of uhms and ahs and looking anywhere else except at me*

Me: Now GET THE FUCK OFF MY LAWN OR I'LL SHOVE THAT GUN SO FAR UP YOUR FUCKING ASSES, THE ONY THING YOU'LL BE SHOOTING IS BREAKFAST!!! (I actually spit I was screaming so hard. They split across the street apologizing and I silently congratulated myself for my angry old man wit)

I continued, in a much less verbose manner, mind you...

Me: And if you shoot my fucking house again I'LL CUT YOUR FUCKING HEAD OFF!!! (so witty, I am)

Three cop cars show up (we live in the neighborhood where all the cops live, one reason not to move) and they call me on the phone to come out and meet them. I walk out there and the cop tells me they take weapons very seriously and that since the boys are only 12 and 13, they won't press charges if there's no damage (and there isn't). He said that they would get it harder from their parents than the cakewalk the cops would give them. They had already put on a show for the neighborhood, three cars lights flashing, hands on holsters yelling at the kids to throw the gun on the ground. I agreed and he said he was going to suggest they boys come over with their parents and apologize.

One by one they did and I thanked them and told them all about a lesson learned but made it very clearly that I don't take kindly to threats against my home or family and someone shooting a window my kid could be standing under is as clear a threat as any. The one boy, who lives across the street, offered to wash my car (his dad's idea). I will take it.

My boys will be riding their bikes at the time and I will introduce him as if I am always prepared to crush him. "What's yer name again, son?" "Boys, this is ****, he's washing daddy's car today. Isn't that nice of him?"

I taught at risk youth all year and feel I made a decent difference but none received the education those boys did tonight. I will always be the guy who might cut their head off if they mess with me. And that is somethign I can live with.


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I forgot to mention that when i walked back inside after talking to the policemen, Megan was peaking out the blinds. "So? What happened?"

Deadpan, "They told me to get my coat and ID, I'm being arrested for uttering threats."

She shit a brick and I laughed, the movie was nowhere near as good as Fincher's capable of and the Heineken was flat by the time I sat down again. But all in all, a good night.

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Get off my lawn

Des, that was excellent. Now you just need to learn to hate your own family and appreciate the culture of the boy as being far closer to your idea of what Canada should be. Get that boy under your bootheel and then complain that your own kids are spoiled and don't respect you anymore.

Getting massively angry at someone to their face once in a while is VERY cathartic. Hope this mean you aren't holding all that rage inside anymore Des.

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