Or, alternate title: “Hoodlum neighbor kid’s Punk-ass friend broke our gate”.
Kids these days… Grumble grumble… When I was their age… Etc.
The alternate title pretty much sums it up. Punk-ass kid broke our gate. The neighborhood kids were playing some kind of chasing and hiding game and one of the neighbor kid’s friends went tearing through our back yard. BACK yard! He doesn’t even live around here, he’s trucked in from some other area where they clearly don’t learn manners or property laws. He came in one gate, left it hanging wide open, then ran into a second gate; he attempted to open it the wrong way, bent the hinges, bent the latch, and broke the picket on the fence post it’s attached to (kid had some forward mass & momentum, if you know what I mean). Then, having only managed to open it about eight inches the wrong way (conveniently about the width of Emma) he proceeded to run through the yard again and go out our third gate, leaving it wide open. Know how I know all of this? I saw him. I was about to let Emma out when he went tearing through the first time. I heard the pop when the wood broke and then saw him go running back the other way. Punk-ass kid is quick.
So, I’m mad. Emma’s mad because she’s not allowed outside without supervision. She could get out of the fence right now, and that’s not acceptable. And Andrew, well, he’s happy. He’s just as pleased as he can be for an excuse to break out the power tools unexpectedly on a Wednesday night. He’s out there all bundled up with some kind of light system set up, he’s got two different types of saws, his drill, and all sorts of screws and bolts working out there.
I’m honestly glad it was Punk-ass kid and not Hoodlum neighbor kid who broke the gate. I’d probably stay mad at neighbor kid, but I don’t have to see Punk-ass kid on a daily basis. Plus, I’m glad Andrew’s handy enough that he can fix it no problem. Emma’s really glad of that too, she’d really like to get out there and explore in the yard some more.