The Tulip Terrorist is beginning to leave his toys on our property. He left a dumptruck up by the rear door in the little enclosed space and a scooter back by the yard. Ray said I should go all Rita DelVecchio on his tuchus: "You leave it on my lawn, this is my dumptruck now!" I also worry it heralds an escalation of his invasion of the house area and specifically he's going to mess up my herb garden. So help him I will throttle his little neck if I catch him ...
Oh who am I kidding. Ray and I totally are disempowered talking to him. We're do-gooder non-confrontational types and the kid is basically without conscience. I can try having a conversation with him, but I know he won't take it seriously.
According to a neighbor his mother was "on meth when she had him." This, combined with his mullet, will just stigmatize him for life. Comfortingly, I guess, the little terror apparently knows right from wrong but doesn't care. I say comfortingly because at least he is aware there is a difference! When I told him those flowers weren't his to pick he may not have cared what I was saying, but he understood. He is not completely feral, then.
Oh, Sara Gray posted some engagement pics on her website so check out how matronly and old I look and how youthful and photogenic Ray is.
In other news: We finally tried razor clam sausage. We were told you had to like razor clams (we do) to eat it, but it tasted a lot like regular sausage. We ate it with sauerkraut.
Big banjo band playout on Saturday — the Four String Banjo convention. It's the Round Robin. Drama will ensue, I am sure!
No comments:
Post a Comment