August 30th, 2026

I had assumed that when I saw the small square shaped wicker basket that I keep on the console table by the front door missing, and all of its contents piled into an untidy heap on the corner of the table that the kids had used it for their Nerf wars.

They had been moving planter stands and chairs around the afternoon before; shooting at each other from in between upturned chair legs and through your iron planter. The chairs and the heavy iron planter were all put away. Not quite how you had them, but close enough that you weren’t going to have to do the whole, “I don’t give a shit what you do, so long as you put it back EXACTLY how I had it,” spiel.

That was something that drove me nuts. I’ve always been extremely OCD about everything being put, just so. Something out of place eats at my fucking soul. Needless to say, living with three kids who don’t particularly give a flying fuck where things are (so long as they can still get their screen time fix) hasn’t exactly been the proverbial chicken soup my soul craves. Tis a season… which is why I really tried not to give too many fucks about the basket. Maybe I’d just let it go…

Everything else was put away, mostly right.

A few minutes later though I found the upturned basket on the sanctuary floor. I had assumed I’d find it filled with Nerf darts but it was empty. “That’s weird,” I had thought.

It wasn’t until David came downstairs and asked me how I had slept did I learn about the basket. The basket was for the bat. The bat that had been attacked by the cat. The bat that then crawled out of the open basket handle and disappeared in a door crevice for 45 minutes before David could find it. Which happened right after the doorbell rang and the kids came running upstairs to get us. This was at 12:00am.

When David finally got the kids settled, and checked to see what in the actual fuck was happening, and the kids, terrified… told him that the same four teenagers who had stolen their water gun that had been hanging on the front door and smashed it to bits before tossing it into the canal just two streets north of the church a few weeks ago, had come back and were pounding on and peeking through the family room windows (basement) where they slept, before they ran up to the front door and followed it up with a Ding, Dong, Ditch for good measure.

Somewhere in there Elliot told David that the cat took down a bat and they used the basket in question by the front door, to trap the bat and keep the cat from tearing it to shreds. The bat must have questioned the basket’s structural integrity though and so it got the fuck out of there as fast as a stunned winged mammal can make its way out of a basket and managed to hide in a door jamb where it evaded David for quite some time before he was finally able to locate, capture, and relocate it back outside.

By the time that was all done and he finally managed to calm his nerves, it was 3:00am and probably, according to David, “Closer to four,” by the time he actually fell back asleep and now wanted to know, “how did I sleep?”

Well I had slept through the peeping, and the banging, and the Ding Dong Ditching, and the basket, and the bat, and the winged mammal attacking cat… and quite frankly I had not only slept through all that, but I had also slept pretty damn well.

Poor David looked like shit; dark bags rimmed his eyes. He looked exhausted and so I decided that I could definitely let the basket’s shit poured into a sloppy heap on the front console table go.

What I couldn’t let go though, were the frickin teenagers. First encounter was the stolen squirt gun. It cost us less than $2 at the local Walmart, but as my sobbing child said, “It’s not the money, mom… I’m just so angry that they stole it from me and smashed it… I would NEVER do that to another kid…” and he wouldn’t and I totally shared the sentiment.

We had moved on though right? I mean… it’s a $2 squirt gun that we replaced and we’re nuts but not nuts enough to harp on a stupid squirt gun a few weeks later. BUT… the knocking and rapping and peeping through the windows while we were inside sleeping at midnight… none of us were going to let that one go.

One day it’s a water gun, the next day it’s an innocent game of Ding Dong Ditch at 12:00am, and then the next thing you know my dog is tearing out the throat of a juvenile delinquent… and if I thought that an upturned basket was going to be annoying to put away, I knew that scrubbing down the rug after a carotid artery was severed by my dog was going to be a bit more labor intensive.

Not on my watch.

I was going to call the cops.

I just wasn’t sure what to tell David. I could hear him… “And what, Vaness? What are they going to do? Huh?”

And I wasn’t even really sure how to answer that. I wasn’t looking to get the kids in trouble, seriously. My fear was just that the next thing for them to do might be daring each other to run inside and grab a shoe by the door, or turn on the light in the foyer… just something stupid that might bring them inside, and face to face with my extremely protective Rottweiler mix who I am pretty close to certain would maul them, given the correct circumstances.

I figured that if maybe the police were aware that they could patrol our area a bit better at night… talk to the problem kids if they knew who it might be… I don’t know… I was just trying to figure out how to do my part from keeping the little shits from taking this any further in case that’s how they planned on playing this out. I just assumed that David would find involving the police ludicrous… and maybe it was.

So when David and I were taking our morning walk with Ottoman and we stopped to light our joints and he took a deep breath and pocketed his lighter and exhaled, “Welp… I did the middle aged white guy thing and I called the cops,” I was quite taken aback.

“Ha, that’s funny because I was planning on calling too. What did you say?”

“Well I told them what happened and asked if they had any other calls or complaints, and they said, ‘no’ and that was essentially it.”

“Hmmmm… I’m surprised. I just assumed those kids would have been out raising a ruckus elsewhere too… lucky us. I guess we get all the fun.”

And that was kind of the end of it all… except that I still couldn’t let it go… what if those kids came back? Our front door didn’t lock too well. It was nearly impossible to lock and after calling the manufacturer of the door who was in shock that I had a door that old, told me that they didn’t even have those parts anymore and I was looking at a full replacement (thousands and thousands of dollars) I had decided that a “Beware of Dog” sign would have to suffice. Except that kids are dumb and now I was wondering if a sign was actually going to be enough.

Remember the Tide Pod challenge? I do. I painted a picture based off it…

They say the children are the future and while I agree… I gotta tell ya… the Tide Pod kids don’t usually make it to the future. And if there were a Venn Diagram of kids that ate Tide Pods and kids that were out Ding Dong Ditch-ing at midnight and maybe deciding to ramp it up with a little, ‘run inside and steal a shoe’ for good measure, you were pretty sure that Venn Diagram would just be a single circle.

The last thing I needed was for my dog to maul some kid over a shitty off brand Walmart sneaker.

I thought about messaging my neighbors… the mayor’s wife… asking her if she had any issues at her house, but I found it pretty hard to believe that they would have and not also called it in to the police (they were also middle aged white people). Nope we were on our own with this one.

I wasn’t trying to get anyone in trouble. David and I were just very concerned about the kids escalating, vandalizing, or our biggest fear: coming inside and getting torn to shreds by Ottoman. We didn’t want to put up cameras, that gave us both the ‘icks’ and we certainly didn’t want to invest in new doors… then it dawned on me: Facebook.

That was it!

When it came to moral disagreements with strangers, Facebook was always the answer.

So I thought about it… “What was my objective here: keep kids from getting mauled.”

“What was the tone? Lighthearted but stern.”

“How did we think it would play out? Maybe the message would get back to the parents because in a small town the chances were good that it would get back to the parents.”

“But also… how did we honestly anticipate that this post would turn out? Unhinged? Off the hook? Way over the top?”

Yes.

Yes.

And yes.

I wasn’t careful with my wording for nothing…

So I made my way to our town’s Facebook page and I began…

Teens Causing Trouble at our home / Spencer Methodist Church

(Fabulous Title, succinct and attention getting… good job… I continued… I was on a roll… the words began to stream in easily)…

I’m hoping this reaches the parents of the four teenagers who stole from us and scared my kids last night.

A few weeks ago they came by and stole a water gun off our front door. It belonged to my kids. They smashed it a few blocks down and tossed it in the canal.

Fine. Kids do dumb things. We moved on.

(Keep it lighthearted and show understanding, Vanessa).

Last night though they came back and what’s disturbing to me is that they came back around midnight and were pounding on the windows and peeking through them while my young children slept. They were loud enough that they not only woke all three of my kids but they scared them too.

(Make sure your audience understands the need for said Facebook post).

Then they ran up front and rang the doorbell and took off.

Now I get it, ding dong ditch… haha…

(You want your audience to acknowledge that you have a fabulous sense of humor and can empathize with said teens here, so that you’re not skewered for being an old stick in the mud).

Except peeking in on, and terrorizing my children in their pajamas while they sleep is a bridge too far and definitely not funny.

(Let them know you mean business here, because you do)…

I’m writing this because I’m nervous about the behavior escalating… few weeks ago it was a petty theft, last night it was peeking in windows at sleeping children. Gives me the ick vibes.

(Appeal to their empathy now… sleeping children. Children damnit. Little kids. Not good.)…

I’m nervous though that if anyone gets the lame brained idea to step foot in here on a dare or whatever dumb stuff kids do, that someone will get mauled. Seriously. If anyone steps foot into our home unannounced and uninvited my dog will not hesitate to protect us. We got him for that very reason. Same can be said about my husband (ha-ha).

(Look at you, setting boundaries and making jokes… good stuff… keep going… let’s tie it all together here)….

But seriously folks, I’m a bit perturbed to say the least.

I like to think of myself as very easy going but if anyone vandalizes or sets foot on our property with the intention of doing harm or scaring my children, I am prepared to use the full extent of the law and will press charges. All the charges. It’ll be like Oprah… You get a charge, you get a charge, you get a charge…. EVERYBODY GETS A CHARGE. Except unlike a new car or Dell laptop… this one will stay with you indefinitely.

(Ooooh… that’s pretty good. Definitely keep that part about the laptop and car…)….

Anyhow… if you are parents of teens who are out and about at midnight (no judgement), they’re causing trouble and we will not if it comes to that, hesitate to involve the police… PLEASE curb your kids. I know it’s summer time and kids are bored but seriously, unlike our family’s Christmas card below, this isn’t funny.

PS: I don’t need names, I don’t even care who it was. If you know, let mom or dad or whomever the guardians are, know that it needs to stop.

My family and I appreciate it and thank you for being great neighbors.

Then I posted a picture… because posts with pictures always get more attention, and I waited. And let me tell you. I didn’t have to wait long.

Everything started off pretty normal.

There was Sharon down the street who said: Peeping in windows is against the law. Call now before it gets escalated.

I liked her comment then replied: We already called. But since we don’t know who it is there’s not much police can do. Hoping therefore that this reaches the parents because I don’t know what else to do.

A neighbor Sarah that I had never met commented: I see you guys walk during school so you’re pretty close to me. I’ll check my cameras and see what I can find.

You hit the thumb’s up button.

Tracy told you to: Call the police.

You replied: Already did (smiley face) Just hoping this gets to the parents so it doesn’t escalate further.

Diane wanted to know: Location in town?

You replied: We’re in the church by the old hospital.

Diane said that she was: so sorry this is happening to you and your kiddos. I’ll keep eyes out through the weekend in town.

Nice of her…

Then Jason chimed in on a string off Diane’s comment.

Jason: you are living in that old church on the corner?

Then he added a second comment to his first in another response: Very nice to see it’s being used. I always liked the looks of that church.

You confirmed that you lived there and thanked him.

Jason: Awesome!! So are you guys remodeling/renovating the inside into more like a home?

You told him you were.

Still there were no leads on the parents, but you figured even Matlock and Angela Lansbury started somewhere too.

It was only a matter of time before you tracked down the parents and they could apologize (or not) and tell their kids not to fuck with you anymore…

Except that as the comments continued you were still getting nowhere and now Ted, referring to the picture wanted to know: Is that one of those rotwilder (sic) Dogs?

You weren’t sure why Dogs was capitalized and ‘rotwilder’ wasn’t and because you weren’t sure what breed you had mentioned in your homeowner’s insurance application (hey, he’s a mix…), you figured that the best response would be: He’s a mix of all sort of fun (smiley face). Six likes later and no call from your insurance provider and you figured you were good.

There were recommendations for getting cameras. Lots of those. There was even a woman who told you that your post was well written (it was) and that she gave you a lot of credit for being more “understanding than she would be.”

See that? You set out to show you were understanding and it came through in your post… good on you. That IS good writing….

Then there was another neighbor Theresa who wrote a somewhat cryptic message that worried your mother who called later to make sure that you weren’t trespassing: Excellent post. I am sorry you had to do it; this fellow neighbor, who works with teenagers, welcomes your family and efforts to beautify our community. In the meantime, STAY OFF OF MY LAWN!!

Your mom wanted to know what she meant by that? Were you going on a neighbor’s lawn? Maybe letting your dog poop all over their property?

You reminded your mom that your dog was a whack job and refused to poop anywhere but his own yard. You told your mom that you didn’t go on people’s lawns and that you just thought that was a blanket statement she made geared towards the teens… a bit of humor maybe.

“Well it didn’t read that way,” your mom said,”It read like she’s happy with you but also angry about you being on her lawn.”

“I don’t think so. But even if it is about me on her lawn… I really have no clue who she is and I don’t hang out on other people’s lawns… promise… I think it’s one of those ‘let’s eat, grandma’ vs ‘let’s eat grandma’ situations… the delivery just wasn’t really great.”

“No, it really wasn’t” your mom added.

Back on Facebook though… things began to unwind further.

Sylvia wanted you to know (as if you didn’t already) that: The Mayor lives a few doors down from you. Don’t think he wants kids//teens causing problems late at night. Let him know. Contact your Alderman. I believe it is Stephanie Dewey.

Someone laugh reacted. You could see why. You certainly weren’t calling Stephanie about a Ding Dong Ditching.

Then came Nicky who replied to Sylvia: People Need to get together. Sign petitions. Get shit done NOW!! DEMAND THESE CRIMINALS BE TAKEN CARE OF NOW!! IT WILL ONLY GET WORSE!!

You had no clue what the fuck petitions she was referencing and you definitely weren’t about to start an ‘anti Ding Dong Ditching at midnight campaign’ which was 1) ridiculous and 2) the only sure fire way that you could think of to become the largest target of a ‘pro Ding Dong Ditch at midnight campaign.’

“Criminals,” also felt a bit steep.

An hour later though and Nicky was back at it… this time commenting on the main thread: Time for a curfew. STEEP FINES TO PARENTS FOR KIDS OUT AFTER!!

One Ding Dong Ditch and the entire teenaged summer culture of your town was about to die based off a single Facebook post and Nicky’s proposed petition and curfew.

Beth chimed in shortly after: And this is why I have guns to protect my home and family.

Jesus Christ, Beth… escalating much?

But apparently Sofia thought she could escalate further: Personally, I love living in a stand your ground state! That kind of thing is very rare around here… for that reason. What you are going through is not a “kids will be kids” king of thing, it’s the start of going down a road of no return.

Ding Dong Ditching one day…. Homicide the next. Apparently it’s a slippery fucking slope in this town. You decided not to mention that you came from a ‘stand your ground state’ and that angry men were regularly shooting each other’s heads off over spilled popcorn and loud music and parking spaces… and that the reason it wasn’t happening here on that level probably had way more to do with the fact that there were so few people living in town and less to do with the second amendment. This was a very small town.

Steve chimed in with: It’s not going to be fun and games if a pew pew gets involved.

You remembered that one time when you were a bored teenager and you and your friend were driving around and decided to stop in front of a house with a snow man and you both got out of the car and pushed the snowman’s head off then took off running back to the car and laughed about it for hours; bragging about how well you had evaded detection like you had just choreographed the Ocean’s Eleven heist. Only to learn that Steve here would have given the chance, shot you both dead on the spot.

Then Nicky was back: There Are cameras all over town. You know the ones people were batching about. No we don’t need them!!

You guessed she was being sarcastic and that she was referring to Flock cameras. Right Nicky… the ones that cops use to stalk women and brown skinned people. Those are great. More please (you could also be sarcastic).

But there was more… Trudy: Where did this happen , parents should have control of there (sic) children (cough couch) animals.

You had no clue what a cough couch was.

Then came Tom: If those kids watched the news lately they know nothing will happen to them in NYS and most other Democrat run States. Lawlessness pure and simple going on all over and the Judges hands are tied from sending them to jail even for a short stay. NO CASH BAIL IN NYS.

You thought about that for a second. You lived in a town that was comprised of over 70% Republican voters. There was a greater than 70% chance that these teenagers had Republican parents.

Dear Tom… (you started) as opposed to the 34 time felon, adjudicated rapist, pedophile in the…

You deleted your comment. Tom was not worth your time and obviously there was no talking sense into him…

Rachel seemed to miss the entire point of your post too: How are you going to press charges if you don’t know who the kids are? If you knew who they are you could contact the parents before involving the police…

Jesus Christ Rachel… I don’t want to press charges. I just don’t want these kids doing stupid shit or I will and that’s what this was? Right? Hello? I’m trying to find the parents…

Jake chimed in: Parents don’t parent and unfortunately this is the result…

I thought about calling my mom, confessing the snowman story and telling her that Jake said it’s her fault and she sucked as a mom.

But then along came Paula (her mom probably never hugged her): Get a can of wasp/hornet spray & use it. Blind them. Let the parents bitch.

Holy fuck, Paula…

Ding Dong Blind Them Bitch…

Three likes.

Dennis took it a step further: Hide outside with a shotgun and show them real fear.

Twelve likes.

Justine agreed: THIS! If the parents don’t care what they are doing maybe scaring the literal life out of them will teach them

Three likes.

I mean… you replied to Dennis… that’s a bit too ‘escalated’ for my taste but I get it lol. You were hoping to dial things down here. ‘Lighthearted,’ amiright?

Three likes.

But Sue didn’t agree: not far enough.

Threatening children with shotguns for rapping on your window wasn’t far enough for Sue… no.

Sue: Dump their ass in the middle of the Keeney (sic) Swamp or the the (sic) thousands of acres in Allegany (sic) county.

She wanted to add aggravated assault and kidnapping and endangering a minor(s) to the mix.

Two likes.

Suddenly Dennis… the guy who wanted to brandish a shotgun in children’s faces became the voice of reason: unfortunately I do believe that would be a felony.

Sue: Guess those kids (sic) parents would have to prove it! (Laughing face with sweat drop) Wouldn’t find their bodies in an ideal world.

Which is when we learned that given the chance, Sue would like to ‘Ding Dong Ditch Their Corpses In The Swamp.’

Well fuck, Sue.

Nicky was starting to sound even more reasonable than Sue and if there was one thing you had learned about Nicky, it was that she was in fact, very much not reasonable.

A comment later Sue added: Salt shot

No punctuation at the end. Was it a question? Was it an answer? What is it, Sue?

But Nicky was not about to be out Nicky’d: Get one of those vacant buildings…

Ok Nicky, I’m listening… we’re the type to buy vacant buildings…keep talking…

Nicky: Make a detention center.

Ok Nicky… you just fucking lost me there… Jesus…

But she wasn’t done: First offense 3months, 2nd, 6 months, 3rd 12 months. Any After that FIVE YEARS.

Holy hell Nicky… five fucking years for Ding Dong Ditching?

Of course though… Nicky had more: DEPENDING ON AGE, No visitors or calls at all first week. Older kids, 2wks. (You wondered what constituted as older… we were still talking kids afterall). No visits except parents. Kids do the chores to pay room and board. MOPING (sic), LAUNDRY, COOKING, MAKING BEDS. LESS PEOPLE tax payers will have to pay for!!

Parents still pay the fines.

(And because this is super important to add),

NO OUTSIDE CLOTHES. Jail style jumpers (what the fuck, Nicky?). Flip flops. No makeup. Perfumes, colognes. No snacks. Three hots and a cot. Let them get a taste of what they are heading for. Bet we WILL SEE Change!!

So Nicky is a “hell yeah,” for the kiddie concentration camps. Anyone else?

And yes, of course there was…

Sue: Bring back Industry for these (you’re assuming that by these she means the industrial prison complex for children) run the streets trouble making kids .!

Ok… so two votes for the kiddie concentration camps and one like…

A few more comments down and Nicky was back: Eff NYS no BAIL!! Each city should have their OWN LAWS!!

Translation: If I can’t put a kid in a high security detention center for Ding Dong Ditching, then I don’t want to be a part of this god forsaken union.

Then came the real detective Matt, who solved the entire crime after just viewing my post’s photo: Must have been really recently.. with all that snow n stuff

You caught me Matt. I made it all up. Clearly the guy made it this far not knowing how photos work, your work here was done.

But Cynthia was there to let him know that: if you read the post the picture was from Christmas. Not now.

Thank goddess someone was here to clear that up.

Jerry decided that: Next time let the dog out ?

Though I don’t think they were even fully onboard there… on account of the questionable punctuation. Wasn’t the whole point of this for the dog NOT to bite someone, Jerry? Spoiler alert: it was.

Lindsey wanted to know: Is that you in the picture? Why are you wearing masks?!

Katie let her know that: is totally normal in the North, especially when it’s cold out…

You cleared it up for her and let her know that it was a joke because your family was from Florida and it was your first ‘real cold weather.’

And Stacy let Lindsey know: Wow… you have no sense of humor, you must be a delight at parties.

Which must have pissed Lindsey off because her humorless ass later went back and deleted her comment.

There were more comments about what has this town with virtually no crime, no homicides, no vandalism, no larceny, etc, etc, etc… come to? And if you were to read the comments: to absolute shit, would be the only plausible conclusion.

You were living in a lawless shit hole, a veritable den of crime, a delinquent’s Ding Dong Ditching utopia… the only thing missing, if you were to ask Nicky, were the electrified razor wires and the (formerly vacant buildings turned) child detention centers.

By the time the comments stopped streaming in you were no closer to finding the parents of the offending teens. The only things that you had ascertained with 100% certainty was that Sharon thinks this is going to escalate if you don’t call the cops. Sarah was going to check her cameras; Tracy was another vote for calling the police; Diane said she’d keep an eye out through the weekend; and Jason wanted to know if you were turning the church into a home and was happy someone was living there. Ted couldn’t figure out if you had a ‘rotwilder’ Dog. Theresa likes how you wrote your post even though she was sorry you had to write it and she may or may not be accusing you of loitering on her property. Sylvia wanted you to contact your mayor and county representative; that Beth is packing heat; that Sofia thinks the pipeline from Ding Dong Ditching to homicide is short; and that Steve thinks we should bust out the guns. Trudy thinks that the ‘cough couch animals’ are wreaking havoc thanks to their shitty parents; that Rachel lacks basic reading comprehension; that Paula wants to blind children with wasp spray; and that Dennis wants to threaten children with a shotgun, to which Justine agreed but Sue did not. Sue thought their corpses should be dumped in a swamp; that Dennis the guy with the shotgun thought that was a bridge too far; but that Sue still didn’t think that was far enough; that Tom was in a cult and probably not getting out anytime soon; and that Matt was able to conclude that the picture with snow in the background was not recent. That Cynthia had to let Matt know that the post stated it was from Christmas and that even though your entire reason for the post was so that the dog wouldn’t bite anyone, that Jerry thought you should let your dog loose on the teens. Lindsey can’t take a joke; Katie thinks it’s normal in the north to wear ski masks; and Stacy thinks that Lindsey has no sense of humor… and finally… that Nicky wanted to bring back concentration camps for kids, do away with cash bail, and believes that we need more flock cameras AND a petition.

Sixty-seven thumbs up. Fifty-four care emojis. Twenty-eight crying faces. Seven heart emojis. Seven shocked emojis. Four angry faces. And one laugh react. Ninety three comments… many of which were unhinged (I’m looking at you Nicky)... Thirty-three shares.

And still… no parents of said kids located.

At this point the only real threat you seemed to have actually pinpointed was getting on Nicky’s bad side.

Which is why when the doorbell rang the very next afternoon and you were downstairs painting a commission in the kitchen and David was prepping dinner you didn’t think much of it. David on account of you both being busy, asked the kids to see who it was.

When the kids made it back downstairs after answering the door Harrison was the first to come back down into the kitchen, “Hey Mom, Dad? There’s a nice guy at the front door who would like to speak with one of you…”

It turned out that the “nice” man at the door was a police officer… and not just any police officer: the chief of police.

Apparently David’s call to the police non emergency line and my public post on the town’s local Facebook page was enough to launch a full investigation into the Ding Dong Ditchers…

Their concern was “squatting and peeping” and they were going to keep a closer watch over the neighborhood.

When the chief of police left though, David and I had some questions of our own, “Hey son?” David asked Harrison.

“Yes, Dad?” He replied.

“Did you know that ‘nice man’ was a police officer?”

To which he laughed, “Ha! Of course I did. He had on a badge and a uniform and a gun and showed up in a marked police cruiser.”

David was incredulous, “Well the adjective you used to describe him was ‘nice’ but yet no mention of police officer?”

Harrison wasn’t deterred, “He was nice! Id think that you and mom of all people would be proud of me for not reducing someone’s entire identity to their career choice…”

“Jesus Christ Harrison,” I exclaimed, “yes.. of course… but in this case… a cop with a gun and a police cruiser rolling up to question us…?! Career choice in THIS case IS in fact pretty fucking relevant, ya know?!!!”

“Honestly… I just wanted to see how it was going to pan out…” he said.

“What the fuck?! Pan out!? Are you nuts?!” I stammered. Was this kid looking for us to go down in a blaze of glory with the local police department?

“You guys did really good,” He added as if to make it all better…

“Hey Bud?” David interjected, “Next time there’s a cop at the front door, Im going to need you to divulge that sort of information, ok?”

Harrison was upset though, “I can’t believe you guys thought I didn’t know he was a cop… thanks a lot! My own parents think Im dumb.”

*****************************************

All in all our take away from all of this is that a good deal of our neighbors are batshit nuts, bats are still coming into the church, our middle child wanted to see how we would react to being questioned by the police, and Facebook… contrary to popular belief, might not be one’s best bet for well… really anything… except great shit on Marketplace.

…Much like Nicky and her convictions about concentration camps for kids, that IS a hill I’ll die on…

And also I’ll let you know if we ever catch the elusive Ding Dong Ditchers. I’m not holding out any hope. I’d venture to guess that Angela Lansbury is on account of my botched Facebook investigation, actively rolling in her grave as we speak.