Worthless kids … or, how do you like my pickup now?

Several months ago some kids moved-in up the block and they’ve been zooming up and down the boulevard in pickups with loud mufflers ever since. It’s a genuine hazard. I’m not sure what to do about it.

Worthless kids. You know the type.

You can’t call the police over these things; it’s too much to expect they sit around waiting for the kids to peel out on their way to who knows what.

It’s a safety issue. I hear them all hours of the day or night; okay, between 5 a.m. and 10:30 p.m. And mostly around 9. I think.

Worthless kids, I said.

And where are their parents? I saw a meme on Facebook, “You should binge watch your kids.” Meme was made for these kids. And their worthless parents.

We all know where the parents are. They’re off making money to spoil their kids with pickups with loud mufflers and too much time on their hands.

It’s a cliche. You can write the story yourself.

Then I caught them in the act.

Not so much as caught them as spied them. Saw them. Stood at the kitchen window and watched for an hour, maybe two, and maybe on more than one evening, to catch them. I also checked them out when I went to the mailbox. And drove down the alley the long way just to surveil them. A couple of times. Maybe ten.

Worthless kids, I saw, because that’s what I was looking for.

They’ve always been suspicious characters.

I discovered the boys down the block are the same three brothers from a street over who have been mowing my grass, trimming my hedges and pruning my trees for a decade and a half.

They’ve always been suspicious characters.

I knew it the first time I took a check by their house. Very nice house. The one with concrete, rocks and a flower bed for a front yard. You can’t trust anyone with your yard who doesn’t believe in yards!

But they trapped me: they showed up and did the work. Scheming and manipulative kids.

On the other hand, they’re also hard-working kids. They are, after all, the same boys whose invoice I’ve overpaid every time summer after summer because I like their “Yes, sir” and “No, sir.”

Not to mention my lawn looks great.

And not only mine, but half the block and I can only imagine how many others around town. They’re a regular neighborhood beautification committee. They work all the time.

And never been arrested. Figure that out.

The first year they cared for my yard, the youngest could barely clear the ground with the leaf blower when he shouldered it. Today he’s in high school and still running the leaf blower … and everything else too.

Birth order is a beast, isn’t it?

Their parents didn’t buy those trucks; I did!

When I asked the oldest, a Texas Tech junior doing 4 years in 3, if his (read that, MY) savings had paid for college, he sheepishly admitted his college has mostly been paid for by scholarships. The merit kind.

Worthless kids; well, maybe not quite worthless. What’s the value of a Texas Tech University bachelor’s degree these days?

And guess what? Their parents didn’t buy those trucks. I did! Or at least one of them. I did the math. I think I bought the loud one. And the amplified mufflers for another.

So, now it’s my pickup you’re criticizing. And it was bought with my hard-earned dollars. Yeah, and theirs too, but only because I paid them for their work.

The three didn’t actually move-in down the block. They bought the house and are working evenings and nights to remodel it. Sometimes after 10 p.m. Maybe after 10:30; I don’t know. I know I don’t have to ask where they got the money for the project.

I should’ve done my own hedges. Famous last words.

Now, about the zooming up and down the boulevard, it turns out those trucks I bought make about the same noise speeding up to 25 mph they do winding down from same. You never really saw them speeding, did you? You only heard them.

Who are you to question their behavior anyway? I worked hard for those trucks; and, OK, so did they. They’re kids. Leave them alone and let them act their age now and then.

There are some awesome parents out there.

And the parents? They’ve been working beside those boys all this time. Both mom and dad. Dad pruned my trees last year. Cut the branches way too close to the trunk and removed too much bark. And less than a year later they’re healthy and healing.

He was right about trees, too.

Need sprinkler repair? Yep, you guessed it. They do it. Talk to dad.

Worthless kids … there exists no such thing.

But, I tell you, there are some awesome parents out there.