The Not-So-Great Escape

I’m trying to figure out why I went ballistic when I caught a kid from next door (a visitor, not one of the ones who live there) in our back yard.

Well, he wasn’t still in the yard, and I didn’t exactly catch him. He had climbed over the wall to retrieve yet another football. I saw him perched on top of the wall halfway through his escape. I hurried out back and spoke to him. He ignored me, jumped down on their side and ran to his pals. I’m not talking about a small child. This one looks old enough to drive.

What would you have done? You probably would have had a sense of proportion. After all, he didn’t have a knife or a spray can, he didn’t damage anything and he was definitely scared of me. You might have shrugged it off. Not me. I may or may not have Romanoff DNA in my ancestry, but I am definitely descended from the land of Baba Yaga. (Google or Wiki it, children. Auntie can’t explicate everything.)

Say it with me, bwa ha ha. Come on, no one’s looking. It’s fun. Bwa ha ha! Oh, never mind.

I pulled over and stood on a piece of broken sculpture tall enough for me to see over the wall and called them to me. Two smaller ones ran up nervously, at once. The three older, problem boys returned to their game. I shouted a second time. They froze. Seriously, they stopped moving like in a game of freeze tag. As if I couldn’t see them quite clearly, or they couldn’t see me just as clearly. I told them that I knew they could hear me and to stop their game and come to the fence. I waited until they all did so. And then I asked them not to break and enter my property again. That’s a quote, as legally inaccurate as it may be. (Sis?)

“But we had to get our ball!”

“No,” I explained. This is really what I said. I typed it out as soon as I came in. “You didn’t have to get your ball. You wanted to get your ball. Next time, come to the front door and ask one of us to return it to you. If we’re not home, leave a note and we’ll return it when we get back. You’ll have to play something else in the meantime if that happens. Got that?” I made them all nod. One smart-ass hung his head but didn’t nod. I stared him down, “You too.” Eventually he nodded and so did I before I released them.

In case you were wondering why I don’t have children, this ought to clarify things a little.