Neighbor's Kids

They say that good fences make good neighbors. This always sounded a little cold to me, until the afternoon I was on my backyard patio and heard the neighbor's kids combining lawn darts with ninja combat. I'm hoping that they move on to something else before they develop their throwing arms enough to the launch the lethal projectiles over the fence. I've never seen their science projects, but I can only imagine how advanced they are at physics in particular. How else could two kids jump into a pool in their backyard and manage to extinguish my barbecue fifty feet away?

Don't get me wrong; they're good kids. Alright, they do have drawings exhibited on the refrigerator that would make Picasso look like a realist. And they're cute in the family portraits which are proudly displayed in their home as group shots, including their dog. In the portraits, even the dog has braces!

I'm looking forward to my neighbor's next garage sale. It provides me an opportunity to visit with him and make some small talk. The most important thing is that it gives me a chance to buy back the tools he's borrowed. I'll also probably buy a glass of lemonade from his children, too. This year I'll resist the urge to ask to see their vendor's license, or suggest that Starbucks is sending someone over to shut them down. That wasn't nice, although I still maintain that kids can sell more lemonade with a few tears trickling down their cheeks.

It may be one of the first times that I'll have seen the kids since they knocked on our door during the last snowfall of the season. The flakes were melting as they hit the ground, but I still had the opportunity to hire the kids for just ten dollars to scrape my driveway with their snow shovels. Unfortunately, when there is eight inches of snow in the driveway, the enterprising youngsters are hibernating in their basement playing computer games.

Sometimes they give me the chance to help keep crime off the streets by buying chocolate novelties. At these times, I resist the urge to point out that selling me twelve chocolate-covered almonds for three dollars actually constitutes "crime" on the street.

I think that generally, the neighbor's children think fairly highly of me and my place. And if they're of the opinion that "the other man's grass is always greener" then it's most likely because of how they've toilet-trained their dog.

Learn more about this author, Rick Dickert.
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