On the fourth of July, I had a "moment" that took me back to my sophomore year of college. That wild year I turned 20, I lived in a big house on The Hill in Boulder with my best friend Ryan and four boys. There was never a dull moment in the house, we were once even shown on an MTV show about underage parties on college campuses. After a particularly raucous party I was sitting on our front porch the next afternoon when I saw a determined woman leave her house from across the street. She was on a mission and I was her target. Of course this was probably the only time throughout the entire year that I was the only person at the house so I was the sole recipient of her angry tirade. She did not hold back and boy did she yell! She told me that next time we have a party and wake her two kids up at 2 am, we would be getting a wake up call of our own when her kids wake up at their regular time of 6 am. For the rest of the year I was petrified of her.
Flash forward to this year. Samantha and I went home from a 4th of July party at Josh's house and left Dave to continue the celebration. It was pouring rain so we decided not to keep Samantha up for fireworks as we had originally planned. I put Samantha to bed and was enjoying a mellow night at home reading my book. Fireworks make our dog insane and every noise he heard set him off into a barking frenzy. I tried everything, turned on the TV, locked him in our room but nothing worked. And, throughout it all I called to yell at Dave about all the barking. Then, around 10:30 pm I could hear more and more fireworks being shot right outside of our window. I knew I didn't have much time before all the barking woke Samantha.
I walked outside to see a whole crew of people shooting off fireworks one after another in our street. As I was debating whether to go give them a talking to or to call the police, Dave saved the day and pulled up to take the dogs back to the party with him. As I got back into bed with my book, I thought of that woman across the street yelling at me 12 years ago, I understand now that being protective of your children makes even the most calm people crazy.
1 comment:
I agree with that-don't mess with my kids. I remember when you mom was a baby. A fellow was out in the field back of our house, near a hedge row and was shooting his gun. Yes--I did yell at him! Momma's will protect their young.
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