I had a doctor’s appointment this morning, and it was the one where I would find out if my tireless working out, eating clean, and generally depriving myself of joy over the past four months had effectively lowered my elevated cholesterol levels. Once I was in the room, I was chatting with the nurse, whom I adore, and told her I had been waiting with bated breath all week to find out the results. Being the great nurse she is, she overstepped her professional boundaries, and gave me the results herself, with the promise that I wouldn’t tell the doctor. And guess what? It worked! Ladies and gentleman, I am once again the owner of healthy, happy cholesterol levels…and also of a lighter body frame. So, double score! I told you I’d be the best at cholesterol-reducin’. The best part was that I got to celebrate twice, when the doctor shared the results. Anytime I can get two pats on the back, I’ll take them.
ANYWAY, I went back home to work, and while reading through my emails, I suddenly hear a pre-pubescent voice shouting the words to “Joy and Pain,” that lyrical magnum opus by the 80’s own Rob Base. I looked above my computer screen, and saw a group of 12 year olds coming down the sidewalk, the street performer in the middle of them. All of the sudden, they stop at the corner of our property, and now I’m curious, so I step to the other window. There I see the young man who has been singing unzip his pants, and begin peeing in my bushes. Oh, no. No no no. I flew downstairs, and flung open the door, causing the non-peeing boys to begin to shuffle along, looking back at their friend, who is still singing like he’s on the spectrum, the same two sentences of that song, over and over (you can probably guess which ones), oblivious to my approach. “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?! GET OUT OF HERE! WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU?!!” I bellow, and now he’s wide-eyed, clearly struggling with his zipper. Little bastard, I think. I hope he gets it caught. His friends have now started running, and he’s unable to gain any momentum, due to his uncooperative shorts. At that moment, Pickle started barking savagely, which was a nice effect, because then he really got nervous.
So, with them gone, I go back inside, thinking to myself about how kids have no respe–, wait, what? Did I just say that to myself? Like something one of my old uncles would, say-These GD kids today, I’ll tell ya, got no respect for anyone. Buncha animals. I have absolutely no patience for anything like that, though, and I can’t imagine doing something so stupid at that age. I hope I don’t get a reputation as that lady in the white house..but come on, who pees in someone else’s yard, especially in plain view? Hand to God, I would’ve given anything for my hose to be handy at that moment, because I would’ve sprayed them ALL. Him, for peeing, and his friends, for hanging out with such a bonehead. It’s just not OK, in my book. Keep it up, kids-Halloween is just around the corner, and I’m totally not above handing out toothbrushes and pennies, in lieu of the good stuff. I’m watching you.