Saturday, January 21, 2006

Throwing Down in front of the kids

Yeah, so today Ysabel was going to her friend's house. Her friend lives in a gated community. This means that you have to dial in to get to them. Then they buzz the gate and you get in.
Yzzy's friend's family name isn't on the dialup list by the gate. Nor did she remember the apartment number. So we were in a quandary. I had the Eyeball in tow too. Yzzy volunteered that she has hopped the fence in the past and opened the gate. She volunteered that she has done this with her mother. Well, if Mom was pulling a stunt like that, then there should be no problem...right? Read on.

So she is on top of the fence. Then this gruff voice shoots out of nowhere,

Allow me to interject that some of the most hopeless times in my life were when I was a kid being yelled at by an adult who I didn't know. I have always thought it was unfair.

So I stepped into view.
"Hey, she is just trying to get over the fence because she is coming to visit her friend."

"GET OFFA THE FENCE!" He yelled again.

"HEY!" That is no way to talk to my daughter.


I snapped into parental mode. You can't talk to my daughter like that. You shouldn't talk to any little girl like that.

"WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO?" I asked him several times.
"You aren't going to do ANYTHING, so shut up and mind your own business." Was my deal closer.

"STFU, I'm calling the police." was his retort.
"Big words, little man." Was mine. I was HOT. You can't start trouble with a little girl, and then transfer your cowardly spite to the father of the little girl and not get your ass HURT. I was ready to serve this old man his ass.

Yz looked at me. She had a logic that still amazes me.
"So I should hop down and open the door?" She asked. She wasn't recognizing the authority of that other guy at all. I was the authority figure on the scene, and she was SO easy going about it all. I had her hop down onto our side. We looked at the list again. I was really trying to figure out how to get ahold of her friend's apartment number. I wanted to get buzzed in so I could walk by this cowardly asshat with my kids and smirk in his fat face.

The gate opened. The man asked me who I was looking for. I told him. He told me to come around. And that was that. I went to the apartment. I dropped Yz off. Eyeball and I came back by the truck. I was cooler and I felt that I should talk to the guy. You know, tell him that I would remember the apartment number in the future or something. He was just a super being a prick. That is what they do. But he was gone. His truck was there, but he was not.

Yzzy's friend's mother listened to our adventure on the way in.
"Do you want me to kick his ass?" She asked.
"I say we double-bank him." Was my response.
So high school.
So funny.


I took the Eyeball to Starbucks a little later and we discussed the whole thing. He told me that I'd said a bad word. In all of the flurry, I hadn't noticed.
"What was it that I said?" I mouthed around my Americano.
"Shut-up." Was his response.

You know, I have vague memories of my own father having odd altercations with strangers. I don't know what...and I don't know how, but it all seems very familiar to me. He turned out alright though. Read the next blog and you will see what kind of guy he is. He is a badass with a heart. I hope that someday my own kids will think the same thing about me.