Still thinking on a conversation I had with a neighbor's daughter earlier in the week. The neighbor was in his nineties and passed away on January 1st, but last year, before he moved out of his house and to his daughter's place, he was broken into. While he slept. Don't like the sound of that. Anyway, the guy who got in took his t.v., but nothing else. The police called the daughter this week saying they'd caught the guy. She texted me about it and asked if our sons knew the burglar.
What?
After my face turned red and I got all kinds of mad, I went ahead and asked the boys if they knew anyone by the name of 'such and such'. Of course they said no, and just shook their heads at the ridiculous nature of the question.
I texted her that they didn't (nicely, I might add) and asked why she'd think they'd know him. He's not even from this part of town. Surely she just wasn't thinking. Personally I found it offensive that it might even briefly pass through her mind that our sons would put someone on the prowl for her dad's house. I mean, really. As far as I know, our children don't make a habit of getting cozy with criminals.
She answered me by saying she really didn't think they knew him, but wondered if the name rang a bell. Same difference, if you ask me.
I get myself into so much trouble by being a hot-head. I don't mean to be, but I get so riled up. Now I don't seem to be as effective with blood kin, but put a person outside the family in my face, and I'll get right back at them. I really am like an old mother hen with our kids. As far as I know that's not a crime, but to ask such an offensive question really moves into the realm of rudeness.
