One of the things I love about the kids on our street is… well, sometimes they’re at school and not outside being shits.
But on the times when they are outside it’s always fun to see them being so shit at football that they can’t keep the ball out of our garden or stop it from bouncing off of people’s cars and that sort of thing.
But they’ve discovered the new joy of knock-a-door run. Because who doesn’t love a classic.
But what they’ve combined it with is the fun of pushing random stuff they’ve found in the street through the letterbox.
Last night we were watching TV, there was a knock at the door. Carole went to answer it and there was no-one there. Ho ho ho, you’ve really got us. We didn’t see anyone coming because we’d pulled the curtains in the front room as it faces the setting sun and it’s quite blinding when the sunlight reflects off the parked cars directly into your eyes.
So a little while later, we hear the letterbox. Then there’s a knock on the door.
We ignore it.
But go to check the door out anyway, as we’d heard the letterbox. And there, hanging out of the letterbox, freshly posted by the little bellends is one of those bath sponges that looks like it really wanted to be a hair scrunchie but didn’t pass the entrance exam. You know the sort.
That was in the letterbox.
Which was great. Even better when we know it had been sitting in the road for the past, at least, three days. No, that’s just fricking ace that is.
So it looks like this might turn out to be Summer 2019’s fun child activity. I can’t wait.
Carole has already told me I’m not allowed to stand on the other side of the door, with the nozzle of the hosepipe pointing through the letter box. Even though I’d enjoy the parents coming to complain and me just saying, “Well, what you need to ask isn’t why I soaked them but how they came to be in a position to get wet in the first place….” and then just shutting the door again.