More Punk Head Kids

"Not again!" I thought as Sarah came running in the house, grabbed her phone, and fumbled to get it open in a hurry running back out the door.

Sarah, the boys, and I spent most of Friday evening shopping in Huntsville. We got home around 10:15, dragged our loot in the house and Sarah went back outside to smoke. The glass door had hardly shut when she stumbled back in grabbing her phone. I walked outside to see what had happened and found Sarah, once again, on the phone with the police. At the same time I noticed in the middle of the street, about five houses down, were three teenagers, likely one girl and two guys. The girl was screaming put me down in a silly I-don't-really-mean-it, no doesn't really mean no, way.

When Sarah got off the phone she explained that when she walked out she saw the three amigos walking towards the Terry's yard directly across the street from us. They separated and each lifted the handle of three of the four cars parked in the yard and then came back together at the street and walked on. The Terry's front door being wide open and the porch light and flower bed runway lights brightly lighting the front yard did not discourage these meatheads. They weren't very stealthy, hell, they weren't very quiet. The only way I noticed them at all was that they were making enough noise at 10:45pm to wake up any children sleeping in the houses down the block.

The punk head kids (and I very quickly explained to my precious 3 month old grandson whom I was carrying at the time, that there was a difference between punk head and punkin) got almost to the Spring intersection before turning around and waltzing right back this way. They didn't seem in any hurry, just lolligagging down the middle of the street. Now I could see that the girl spent most of the time slung over one of the boy's shoulders, thus the yelling. She liked it. We are now standing in our front yard with the porch light's 100 watt bulb attracting the attention of every moth and potato bug in a 2000 foot radius but seemingly escaping the attention of the notorious trio of trespassers.

A man we recognized only as the Terry's friend came outside to his car. Sarah went over to tell him to let Mr. Terry know what was going on. A minute later Mr. Terry came out and Sarah filled him in. He immediately got in his car and drove down Clearview but by now the kids were out of sight.

A few minutes later, some 15-20 minutes after Sarah called 911 with a crime in progress report, the officer pulled up and Sarah went to the street to show him where he suspects were last seen but he put his hand up to shut her up. He was on the phone when he arrived and I hope it was an important conversation because it took him a couple of minutes to complete before he was willing to listen to Sarah. By this time the rats have disappeared into the night not to be found.

Mrs. Terry had called the police as soon as she learned of the mischief. SHe requested the officer return to make a police report. Mr. and Mrs. Terry and Sarah sat on their porch for another hour waiting but the officer never showed up. What? That's not good. I'm back to looking into razor blades under the door handles as a solution to this problem. I'm also looking into surveilance equipment. I want a picture of the bloody fingers.