Today In A Neighbor's Yard ...

I was driving back from dropping off some library books when ... about eight blocks from my house ... I saw this lady really tearing into two little kids. I assumed it was there mother, and she was really angry. I wasn't really concerned ... more nosey ... so I circled around their block and pulled up the street from the commotion and parked my car. I got out a map to appear like I might be lost ... great cover, I know ... and rolled down my window. I could here everything and it was a good one.

Little Billy and Janey ... not their names, unless I made a really good guess ... aren't old enough to be in school like their two older sisters, so Mom sent them outside to play. They decided to build a snowman, so they went inside to ask Mommy Dearest ... not her name, but I'm guessing her occupation ... for a hat, a scarf, and a carrot ... your standard snowman requirements.

Well, it seems Mom was busy talking on the phone and she told the kids to look in the "front closet" and leave her be. Being mindful, the kids did just that. They found some items that they thought would work and went back outside to finish creating their own Frosty.

Mom checked on them sometime later and wasn't happy with what she saw. Apparently, Mommy Dearest is also Mommy Drags Her Feet ... she had never found time to put away the family's new Christmas gift so she just shoved them in the closet until she could get them sorted and moved into the appropriate bedrooms.

Now that I had the basics of the brouhaha, I looked more closely at Frosty in my rear view mirror. He wasn't very tall ... neither were the two kids ... but he had some interesting accessories. Playing cards were sticking out of the thing's head like crazy hair extensions ... a nice silk tie went loosely around his neck ... very expensive ski goggles sat where his eyes should be ... a Sonicare electric toothbrush was mounted for a nose ... a frilly purple sweater was draped over his shoulders ... a plaid skirt wrapped around his waste ... a Coach purse dangling from a tree branch arm ... two men's loafers were shoved into the bottom of his off-white snowy body ... and what appeared to be a new whisk was shoved into his gravel-outlined mouth like a New Year's Eve noisemaker. No carrot was in evidence.

As the Mom continued to berate her kids to cover her own guilt, I started up my car and casually left the scene because I though, if I stayed to listen to any more backpedaling or if I looked at that nappy snowman again, I might piss my pants.

POINT OF RANT: Watch your kids.