It's embarrassing. I've lost sleep over this. I worry about how to break the news to the kids of in the neighborhood that our backyard is now off limits. It's just getting to be too many kids, most of whom I have never seen before.
I hate policing "Hey, don't poke your sister with that sharp stick, don't throw those balls into my plants, don't go in that shed with all the chemicals, don't go up that rickety staircase, don't put the baby on the playset."
So screw it.
My right on liberal values were put to the test. Surely the kids (all Latino) deserved a patch of grass to play on, but in the end, with so many kids, I just couldn't take responsibility. I was becoming their babysitter and cop. I'm not even my own kid's babysitter. Where are their parents? (Yeah, yeah, and here is where I cringe. I sound like my right on conservative mother). Who would I tell if one of them got crushed by one of our bowling ball sculptures or impaled on a garden stake?
I still like the kids next door, but for now, I just need a break. No kids.
I'm a big wimp.
In other news, my tomatoes have aphids. It's been a tough seedling year.
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3 comments:
They'll do fine on their own dirt street with their own sticks. There are probably more adults around there to watch them anyway. You can't mother the world. Did Wyatt ever play with them?
Darlin' BFH!
Wyatt was fascinated that there could be midgets (like him) not running around with pints of beer in their hands (unlike the 30-50 year old functioning alcoholic set he normally runs with), but besides a few of the kids next door, they didn't play together.
I guess I just have guilt that Wyatt's friends will be drawn among the liberal big city refugees' spawn. Oh well.
I am so lame. I was asking Tom what BFH stood for. And it seriously took me a good five minutes to figure out it was me.
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