Thursday, January 15, 2009

When Work Follows You Home

Hubs had been working on his car all weekend, and it was late. Jake and I long since had gone to bed, leaving him in a messy garage to finish putting his car back together. Hours later he finally finished, and so there he sat in the cold garage, nursing his upteenth coffee of the day and enjoying the quiet.

Suddenly, he heard voices. Loud, giggling, teenage voices traveling up the street, and coming to a stop in front of our house.

That's odd. It's almost 11 o'clock. What are these kids doing?

Then suddenly, the voices came up the driveway and stopped directly in front of the garage door. Hubs, sitting on the other side, could hear every word they were saying and paused to listen.

"Hey! That's Scatteredmom's car!" (Oh crap. Just what we need. A brand new car, and the only reason it's in the driveway is that the old one is being worked on in the garage.)

"Let's let the air out of her tires, " one voice laughed. Hubs put down his cup and quietly let himself out the side door of the garage, and hiding by the side of the house, peeked over the fence. Ten teenagers were congregated in the driveway, contemplating my car. The car I love, that we just picked up a month or so ago, and has $500 winter tires on it. Letting the air out of the tires would really mess up my day; possibly making me miss a day of work. A day of work helping them get through chemistry class, where they are all asking me for help.

Hubs braced himself, ready to step out of his spot and defend our property.

Suddenly a female voice piped up.

"NO! I LOVE Scatteredmom! She's COOL! Don't touch her car!"

"But her husband is a (insert profession here) and he's a JERK!" This kid really wanted to let the air out of the tires, it seemed. Revenge, perhaps? Maybe Hubs had dealings with him or his friends?

"He's a (insert profession here), he HAS to be! It's part of his JOB! Don't do that to Scatteredmom, it's not her fault. Leave her car alone."

Hubs was a little stunned. People always assume that teenagers are up to no good, and one in this group actually was. However a peer had actually challenged them instead of standing idly by, and now a debate was going on; to let the air out of the tires, or not?

The debate lasted only a minute or so and a consensus was reached; leaving my tires, and my faith that they are generally good kids, intact.

Which is a good thing, really. Especially since in a couple of weeks they all have chemistry mid-terms.

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