Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Earlier today, I saw a young kid walking down the street towards our house. Nothing out of the ordinary... except that it's a school day, and school isn't out yet. I was cleaning in the kitchen, and could see him through the front window. As he got close to our house, the van in the driveway blocked my view of him. He didn't reappear on the side right away, which seemed odd... so I looked out there. Suddenly, the young punk starts to sprint past our house, with basketball in hand. Our basketball. I opened the door and yelled, but he was already around the corner.
I noticed the neighbor across the street backing out of her driveway and she pulled up and asked what that was all about. She had seen the boy running, and as he rounded the corner he hopped into a minivan that was parked there, and they drove off. I told her that in 10 years of living here that has never happened. Our front yard is always littered with bikes and toys, and never has anyone ever taken anything. I said if it was more than a beat up basketball, I would call the police, but it wasn't worth it. She drove off to run her errands.
Two minutes later, she comes to my door and tells me that there is a group of young guys playing ball down the street, and the same minivan is parked nearby. At this point, the 'mominator' in me kicks in... no young punk is stealing my kids' ball! I loaded Pipo (home today for a doctors visit) and Tommy into the van and drove down the street. I jumped out and walked right up to the court, asked the kid who had taken it to hand the ball over, and he looked at me like I was crazy. I said (with hands on hips) "Now listen, I saw you take the ball, I saw you get into that minivan, and my neighbor saw you as well. Why don't you just give me the ball back and thank me politely for driving over here instead of calling the police?" The kid still looked at me like I didn't know what I was talking about, but his friend smacked him in the head, apologized to me, and gave me the ball. With a smile, I hopped back in the van.
Pipo and Tommy were sitting in there wide eyed. "Mom," Pipo said, "those kids were big!" "Yep," I replied. "And there were four of them!" he exclaimed. "But it was our ball, Pipo." I told him. "They looked scared of you!" he said.
And that was the best lesson of the day. I said "Yep Pipo, it doesn't matter how big you get... Mom is always in charge."