So, today, I was sitting out in front of my apartment with Noteponymous, our friend M, and the caretakers. We saw two small children going down the middle of the road. The youngest was maybe two, pushing a plastic shopping cart, and the older was five. Now, the road in front of my apartment is a culdesac.

But the youngest child left the culdesac and pushed his cart into the busy street that crosses out front.

We all watched, dumbfounded. I ran over, grabbed the kid, and carried him back to the building he lives in. Halfway across the lawn, his mother comes out.

  • "Do you know where your kid was?"
  • "Um."
  • "Out on the main street! You know how dangereous that is? You know how the dipshits drive around here!"
  • Now she's getting pissed off. "His brother was there watching him, wasn't he?"
At this point, I realized what I was dealing with. I told her "I got your kid out of the street, lady." Then walked home and had a hard lemonade.

I'm still rattled. One of these days a child is going to get hurt badly on this street, and the parents are going to blame the driver, even though they let their kids play on the street all the time.