Get off My Lawn!

Being childless, I mistakenly assumed that I wouldn't turn into my parents.  After all, why would I?  But alas, it seems God has a sense of humor.  A sick, sick sense of humor.  

Back in September, I had the following exchange with a coworker:

Co-worker: I'm hungry

Me: do you want my applesauce?

Co-worker: Nah

Me: then you're not really hungry!

This was a classic Jamie-Mom exchange through most of my childhood.  You can substitute thirsty or bored as well.  Apparently bedroom cleaning was a valid boredom buster in her eyes... I still disagree with that one!

Last night, I channeled my father and was genuinely mortified.  A small child (6-8 years old, I'd guess) wandered up to my screen door last night and was looking into my house.  He made eye contact with me and a smile started to brighten his face.

Me: Go home.

Him: Why?

Me: Because you don't belong in my doorway.  GO AWAY!

("Why?"??? I'm going to throw a "this is what's wrong with kids today" in at this point, just to increase my crotchety points.  But it did annoy me.)

I know it seems harsh, but it was about 8:45 at night.  It was pitch black behind my house, and there are no children that age living in my building or the buildings on either side.  I don't understand why this boy and the other two he was with felt compelled to play behind my house.  At the time, I thought they were the little unsupervised monsters who live across the street from me - who once stood on top of a construction sand pile and threw rocks and dirt clods at each other.  I went upstairs for bed at 9, and could see a group of adults a few buildings down, also yelling and carrying on, so at least the kids weren't completely unsupervised.  They finally left my backyard a few minutes before I was going to yell out the window.

So anyway, I guess it's official: I am the "get off my lawn" guy of the neighborhood.  Oh well...I guess someone needs to do it!