…is La Casa de Tontería (aka my home aka The House of Nonsense). Specifically, the road in front of my house.
I blame one of my frequent readers (but NEVER commenter) who asked me why I don’t write more about the Middle School Mafia. Not that he wants me to have trouble, but…
He jinxed me.
Monday evening, four middle school kids discovered that the house next door is, for all intents and purposes, abandoned. The opposite house is far from the road and the residents prefer the privacy of their back yard. Adding to the perfect environment is that I don’t sit on the porch in the evenings since the back garden is so lovely. Directly across the street from my house, a wooded lot gives an added sense of seclusion.
Long story short, some neighborhood kids decided to stop their bikes and have a chat in the street. I figured they’d move along. Then their friends joined them.
Two hours later, I gently reminded them that I live here by waving at them as I closed a window. That sent the girls elsewhere. The boys continued their conversation but with increased vulgarities.*
Dusk faded to darkness. I resorted to turning on the porch light. The remaining middle schoolers drifted down the street… and stopped where my property and Good Neighbors’ property meets.
I have a bad feeling about this batch of young humans.
*Anthropologicalesque note: When boys discover girls are kind of interesting, they switch to a cleaner, gentler language in the presence of girls. (“Girls” are loosely defined as females who do not have cooties and aren’t a boy’s older relatives.) Once the girls leave, they switch to their usual jargon of brags, vulgarities, and strategic emissions aka burping and farting. The latter is a means of communication little-understood by outsiders, owing to subtle differences in volume and smell that act as markers to differentiate social rank among middle schoolers. Only group members may gain social credit for knowing who smelt it or dealt it.