My youngest has a thing about walls. I'm wondering if he won't grow up to be an ace graffiti-ist although I hope to god not, natch... We are already bound to lose our deposit on this house when we eventually leave because of the artistic flourishes he has added to the crepy of his bedroom.
Yesterday he trounced that easily, apparently. I had popped down the road to see NG and it transpires that my youngest was idling about ripe for devilish interference. He took a little bottle of White-Out and drew a beautiful picture of a bonhomme on the exterieur crepy of the most painful couple's house in the cul de sac.
Luckily my neighbour who has two boys of a similar age to my youngest saw the work of art and, being a teacher, threw herself into crisis management. She and her husband scrubbed the picture off as best they could (without taking a photo for posterity first, unfortunately), and then stood back to examine their handiwork.
There was a marked lack of crepy colour due to the scrubbing - ah. Another neighbour sallied forth with a pot of the stuff, almost the same colour, and they patched up the spot as best they could.
Did my boys tell me any of this when I got home? No, actually. They kept totally schtum on the matter. It was my neighbour who told me today, and said that there is a snippy note taped onto the letter boxes by the painful pair about the 'damage'. I haven't ventured up to look yet...
Having learned of these appalling goings on, I asked my youngest to explain. He told me he'd been bored... He got a bollocking and is now deprived of sweets for the rest of the week, and if he so much as touches another wall, his father will hear about it, and that, my friends, is a Serious Threat!
As my neighbour so kindly put it, it could have been any one of the kids really, and it's just a huge pity that my youngest chose that particular house to deface.
Boys will be boys...?
Oh Hells Bells and buckets of Blood....boys will be boys does not help, does it.
ReplyDeleteI went out quickly one day when my youngest (now chef d'entreprise and father to boot) decided to have a go at the local surly big farmers barn......the farmer got hot under the collar about it and bolloked my youngest...whereupon, my youngest who did not, (and still does not) think he is of the common run of mortels, saith "ta geule, sale con" to the surly farmer......
when I got home, he was attached to the farmers cart with a rope until, as the farmer saith "he learned to respect hard working folk and their belongings!!!!!"
Oh was I ashamed - becoz surly or not, the farmer I admired for his 18 hours day work, his enormous farm, and the fact that all the others with smart "proprietés" around could swannee around it priceless cars and couture clothes.....I bet my surly hard working farmer was the wealthiest of them all! Every acre i view for miles elonged to him, and hed worked on it day in day out - and all the ground sold to build the smart houses belonged to him tooooo
To boot I got on well with him and he helped me often with fodder and field cropping, and riverbed curing etc - Oh was I ashamed of my nasty little bcbg brat who thought (and still does) that he is the BEST!!
Nowadays, of course, the boy would have run to the local police to say he had been agressed.....and did it teach him a lesson.?
Unfortunately not, some folks just never learn.
ng
And what about adolescent pranks - you have this coming! Well, hopefully not, but if you escape you have good boys! Driving down to the village the other day in fog so thick I couldn't see the bonnet of the car, I passed roadworks that didn't have flashing lanterns and the trench that is being dug is long and deep. Strange, I thought, the Swiss are so organised.
ReplyDeleteYou've guessed - a couple of hours later I notice a flash coming from my sons' study and upon investigation, low and behold, three roadwork lamps ...
They are automatic and light sensitive so you can't turn the damn things off.
Confronted the ado in question who replies - so-and-so pinched more than I did. This equates the crime for some reason.
He was told to take them back and said 'I might get caught'. Tough luck, chum, you should have thought about that before when you nicked and could have been responsible for a serious accident.
Last night with the offending lights in two black rubbish bags to hid the glare, the offender put them back in place, setting off from the house not looking as 'fier'as when he nicked them, I imagine.
Remember the red ones in England with a hook at the top that ran on paraffin? I reckon all my friends had one in their flats ... but I won't tell him that!