Start your engines

Leave a comment Standard

I love spring. The sunshine, the warm breeze and of course, the sweet songs of the birds as they flitter across the sky. What drives me nuts about spring is the rowdy teenagers that infiltrate my street trying to perfect their pop-a-wheely or half pipe. It seems to be no matter where we live, when school lets out and its spring time…the youngins descend on the only area that hasn’t yet shooed them away: my front yard.

Why do they feel the need to grace my ears with their atrocious language and hygenic habits? I do not need anymore clarification on just how to hock a loogie. I’m pretty sure I got it.

Don’t get me wrong, I love youthfullness. I am not discriminating against their childhood or annoying phase of teenager-ness that they can’t help but being in. But seriously, I could do without the tye-dyed hair-triple-nose-piercings-heavy-metal-listening-engine-revving-ness that goes on literally inches away from my front porch.

Engines revving. Now that is possible the single most pointless thing in the world. Seriously! What is the point here? And why must it always occur directly in the middle of my kids naptime?

Yesterday, about 5 boys who thought they were the bomb diggity were chlling with their hoodies up over there heads, bobbing their chins down and up to the beat of the bass, hanging their arms out the car windows, just revving their engine in front of Pio’s Place. I yanked the curtain away from the window and glared. I grunted to myself and closed the curtain again. Hopefully they wouldn’t wake up Chubbers.

Then, a second car pulled up next to them and they too had the bass up all the way and were swaying to the beat and greeting each other in teenager boy fashion of “Yo Yo!” and “What’s Up?”. I soon realized that engine revving is essential to the teenage male language. It serves almost as a puncuation point or the “LOL” at the end of every sentence. And all engine revving must increase by oneTheir convo went something like

“Yo Yo man, where you going?” (engine REVVVVVVV)

“Hey man , where you been? We wanna grab some shakes at Mickey’s Igloo” (engine REVVV REVVV)

“Yeah, sweet. Turn around.” (Engine REVV REVV REVVV)

“Aight” ( Engine REV REV REV REVVVV)

You get the picture. So naturally, I toyed with the idea of going out there myself and barking at them. I had just heard Chubbers let out a whimper of awakening (the dreaded whimper of awakening especially after only a 1 hour nap!)

But I admit my short sweatpants (yes those again, don’t judge me), no makeup and fuzzy red sweater paired with their tye dyed hair, body piercings and possible weapons possesion definitely deterred me from making a spectacle.

My thoughts quickly turned to more logical problem solving techniques like:

1.I will have to stop using the driveway and start parking my car in front of my house.
2. Create a fake street sign. (is that illegal?)
3. Take down their plate numbers and call police.
4. Bake cookies and ask really nicely to not have pow wow in front of my house.
5. Hire off duty bouncer or cop to stand on my driveway with arms crossed.
6. Leave dirty fuzzi buns in pile near edge of sidewalk.
7. Stand on porch with screaming, exhausted child who was woken up from nap and give them the evil eye.
8. Buy pittbull.
9. Hand them rosaries and bless them with holy water every single time they come around.
10. Try to talk to them about God.

Kind of leaning towards number 7 but am slightly curious as to how number 10 will go. I think I may just invest in a leaf blower and power washer and subsequently have some yard work time, particularly in the front yard at 2pm each day. Hmmmmm. Will keep you posted (ha!)

About these ads

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s