Unexplored Territory

Friday, July 21, 2006

Opening a can of whoop ass

There is nothing that irks me more than not being somewhere where I wish I could have been. Case in point.

Last night, Ace had to drop something off to me at the school where I teach, and he said he was taking the kids to a local park. This one the kids especially love because it is a huge fort with all sorts of things to do there. The stated age is for 2 - 12 year olds.

What the sign doesn't say is: if you are a smart-ass 11-13 year old kid who smokes at the shed beside the fort, and who throws mulch at the five and six and seven year olds, and who verbally harasses small children, then be prepared to have a can of whoop ass opened on ya!

But it should.

These aforedescribed children decided they would take up residence around the fort and terrorize and harass the Door Man and Queen Bee. Queenie even mentioned that she was about ready to cry.

Where was Ace in all of this? Taking care of the Monkey. And let's face it: Ace couldn't open the same can of whoop ass that I could on these kids. I have a rep at this particular location, physically pulling two children aside who had been playing hide and seek in the small kid area, and they were too old to be over there. And hell hath no fury like a pregnant mom who witnesses her son, who was just the tender age of two, being mauled by these kids. They apologized, but half-assed, so they had a do-over. Then their papa shows up and wanted to know what was going on. I turned, he saw the full-force of fury on my face, and my bulging belly, and he backed off. Rightfully so.

So had I been there last night, I would have had my own private entry in the docket about the superhero Mom who swept in and rid the local park of the teenage riff-raff, giving the small children of this community an opportunity to climb the tire rope without the fear of having their shoes pulled off.

Yeah. I am sure that would have been the entry.

3 Comments:

Neurotic Mom said...: woohoo gotta love that can of whoop ass. I'm the same way with the neighbor hood kids that the parents refuse to watch.; 8:51 PM
Anonymous said...: You go! I've noticed that since I've had kids, I have turned into my father. And, hey, did I mention that when I was a kid no one wanted to come play at my house because "mean old Mr. J lives there". Honestly, I am wearing that badge with honor.

It is why Plowkid is afraid of me.

Bwahahaha!; 11:36 PM
Anonymous said...: Very pretty design! Keep up the good work. Thanks.
»; 5:00 AM

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I'm a mom of three peeps ... Queen Bee, The Door Man, and the Chandelier Monkey, and wife to Ace, the Helpful Hardware Man. I created this space to get away from the people known as my inlaws, and because life with three kids and a hubby is all Unexplored Territory.

The nine-year-old who seems to be growing older every minute, has an opinion and a comment for everything, and has a true servant's heart.

The seven-year-old who loves the organization of things, will someday be someone's therapist because of his kind soul, and will more than likely be living with us until he is 40 years old.

The five-year-old with the 13-year-old attitude, who has a dictator's personality, asks you to watch her all the time and say "hold on" to keep your attention, and will someday come home on the back of some dude's motorcycle with 10 tatts and a body piercing or two.

The man of the house, the fixer of things, the winner of prizes, and the only person in his family to escape the South.