Canadian Yankees

So, last night, I am trying to catch up on a week of The View and there is BANGING going on so loud in the hallway that I thought the glass on my door would break.

I am about ready to get up and yell at the hooligans, but Mike barges into my room and says, "I need Jon to go out and intimidate this kid..." and I get up to go out there and he says, "Not my mom!"

Well, since Jon shouldn't be walking on his foot and I am going to kill the child for banging on the glass, Mike lost the battle.

I step out and say, "Don't ever knock on my door that way again."

He puffs himself up and says, "I need your tall son to come out to the street for the things that happened on the bus today, I'm going to teach him a lesson."

Inside I was thinking, seriously Mike is 5'5" and is going to beat you down. Why not go home now before the humiliation.

I said, "I don't know how you do it where you live, but we don't do it that way here." I was thinking his family, our family.

He said, "Where are you from, Canada? What are you Yankees?"

Now, I am not sure if this child thinks that Yankees come from Canada or he was just confused because he was now peeing in his pants because Jon came out after me and got in his face and made him get off of our property.

Three of his friends had to pull him off of the porch. They only pulled him to the street where his older sister was waiting in the car for him.

Then Jim arrived. He looks into the car and says, "I'll remember you." At which time I had to head back to the house because it was just so funny, I couldn't stand it. Jim glaring at this kid that is peeing all over the car. All Jim needed to do was V his fingers and go from his eyes to the kids eyes...then it would have made me pee myself!

J and I broke out into a rousing rendition of, "I will remember you...will you remember me..."

Then I called the cops to put a complaint in, I wasn't sure if the kid was humiliated enough to slash tires or break windows, but I didn't want to take the chance. The officer got a call from his chief and he showed up to talk with us, too. They knew who the kids were, "the usual suspects".

Seriously, if your kids were the cops' "usual suspects" wouldn't you look into what the hell it was that you were doing wrong?

The best part of this whole story? We sat on the front porch with the officer and the chief, because it's 70 degrees. It's sunny and springy and flowers are blooming.

Oh, and I will remember you.