Little Hooligans

I’ve noticed since moving to our new little town that the local police force is very active. I think they mostly pull people over for speeding on the major thoroughfare a street up from us, but perhaps they are active for reasons I’m happily oblivious to. For, apparently, there are a few future troublemakers here in our own neighborhood.

I’m not actually sure where these three kids live, but I think it’s the street running perpendicular to ours. I first saw them running or riding their bikes up and down our street, shouting at each other. Next I noticed them investigating the house across the street that was vacant and for sale. There are a few houses on our street for sale, none of them in great condition and at least two of them vacant. For some reason, though, this one was particularly attractive to these little kids (somewhere around the ages of 8 or 10) for they were all over that house trying to find a way in and, in the innocency of childhood, certainly not keeping that fact a secret. You could hear the little boy all over the neighborhood proclaiming he was going to find a way into that house and make it his clubhouse or die trying. No amount of lecture from neighboring adults sidetracked them from their purpose. I think they were even warned by a local cop to keep off the property, but I guess you’ve got to give the kids kudos for persistence although they completely fail in obedience to authorities.

They’re also not shy. A month or two ago, the little boy knocked on my door and proceeded to say, “We’re kids and we’re looking for odd jobs to do to earn money. Have you got anything we could do?” I told him I didn’t and then laughed as he stepped off the porch and the youngest girl flatly told him,  “You didn’t have to tell her we were kids. That’s obvious.” That little girl certainly isn’t afraid to say anything. Last week as they wandered to the no longer vacant house across the street yet again, the little boy was saying something about blowing the house up. The little girl’s response, “And then where would you be?”

The house is no longer vacant. On this venture, the kids met the new owner – a nice black woman but one I wouldn’t mess with. She was pretty firm in telling them not to be wandering about the place anymore but they were welcome to come over and jump on the trampoline once it was set up. I’m not sure what the kids thought as their hopes and dreams of a clubhouse (or possible sight for arson) were dashed to pieces, but I laughed as they rode off on their bikes and the little girl called back, “It was nice to meet you!”

I suppose even little hooligans can be polite.