Ahhh, the days of being seventeen and a newly-minted graduate of high school. Before knuckling down to the terrors of the real world and all the bills that come with it, there's that heady three-month break where it's okay to go buck wild. Sure, I can understand it. But when I wake up on a Sunday morning at 3 am to discover an egg plastered to a cracked window outside my house, I'm going to be pissed enough to press charges, punks!
As I write this post, the window pane is being replaced (thanks Armando!) and my window screen is drying in the backyard (ugh, dried raw egg). Some neighbors are talking about installing motion sensor lights to their front yards, and there's a bit of uneasiness around this otherwise tranquil block. As one neighbor put it, "Can't wait until those damn kids grow up and get their own houses egged!" I wisely shut my trap and hosed off the egg splatter, thinking back to one particular night in 1997 that involved a Costco-sized economy pack of toilet paper and very alluring trees in a neighbor's yard. Man, karma is a bitch.