||[Jul. 18th, 2004|12:24 pm]
Two very small boys are throwing things around at the back of the house. It sounds like a stone falls in our yard. This happens from time to time. Our next door neighbour has worked herself up into a state of paranoia about it and has been known to call the police. I try not to follow suit. I mean, these are very small boys, barely out of diapers. They are not the enemy.|
I go out and look at them. "Hello," says the older one weakly.
I don't shout, I keep my tone level. "Are you throwing stones?" I ask.
"Only at this tree," he says- pointing away from our house. A lie (I've been watching from the upstairs window.)
"Well, that's all right then," I say. "Just so long as you're not throwing them at us." I go back inside.
What a nice, friendly man.
They are not the enemy, they are not the enemy, they are not the enemy!