Woke up later than I'd wanted this morning (after staying up too late reading) to a phone call from third son that his wallet had either been stolen or lost while he was out. It'd just happened. I climbed out of bed, put on the tea kettle and suddenly heard gunshots outside on the street. Six shots. Turns out second son was cutting a neighbor's grass up the street and saw a car drive by our corner and the passenger holding his hand outside the window, shooting up in the air. Oldest son, who was off today, called the police immediately but it'd already been called in. Give me a big, fat break.
We suspect this might be some sort of warning to our across-the-street rental neighbors who have some odd traffic during the day while the dad is at home. This on the heels of finding out another rental neighbor (same landlord) 3 doors down was arrested on a cocaine conviction this month. His family gets evicted as a result.
Can you believe this?
What really gets me is hearing folks talk about moving into 'safe' neighborhoods for their kids' sakes. They want to live in a secure environment, but bring their so-called friends and business associates with them. Then we all go downhill.
The real clincher is that the least one had wanted to go out to the mailbox just seconds before the car drove past, but I told her the mail hadn't come yet. Timing really is everything.
