I was cleaning up the dishes after tonight’s dinner, when the doorbell rang.
I walked over to the door and opened it. No one was there.
I opened the screen door and peeked out. A kid, probably eleven or twelve years old, was about twenty feet away from me, striding quickly away from our house with his dog.
I called after him, “Can I help you?”
He turned and shouted, “I didn’t ring your doorbell,” to which I replied, “Who said anything about a doorbell?”
“I don’t know,” he said, and walked off.
SPLOTCHY: 1
TWELVE YEAR OLD PUNK: 0
*pumps fist in air*
Yeah!
Typical anti-youth hate speech.
For shame, Splotch.
But, are you smarter than a third grader?
Ah, Ding-Dong-Ditch. I should play more often.
But what if he had said, “I didn’t beam down from a flying craft and ring your doorbell with one of my tentacles.” How would you have felt then?
ck, high five WOOO!
j.d., get offa my lawn.
freida b, I’m smarter and more precocious than anyone you can throw at me.
some guy, damn you kids
rider, I would feel burned, humiliated and afraid.
Damn kids!
“Next time that ball comes into my yard I’m keeping it!”
Boy, you sure showed him.
Life o’ splotchy never fails to amaze, to amuse…