Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Because sometimes d-bags are a-holes and sometimes a-holes are d-bags, but the two are not mutually exclusive.

"Daddy, Daddy, Mom just called some high school kids d-bags!" my kid shouted gleefully as he bounded into the house, all pink-cheeked from the cold.

My kid was outside riding his bike and I was outside watching him (because that's the kind of overprotective parents I am) and petting my neighbor's precious little Sheltie who wanders around between their yard and mine, and we hear some popping noises coming from down the street - we see two oaf-y teenage boys lumbering down the street, lighting matches and throwing them in the air, and tossing down those little tiny firecracker things that explode when they hit the ground.

My kid's about done with his bike riding and we're about ready to head back into the house when I see those kids toss one of their little cap things way too close to the dog.

I cross my arms and put on my best Serious Mom Face. One of the teens is guiltily looking around and happens to see me, instantly recognizing Serious Mom Face. He hits his friend who is still happily throwing little firecrackers in my neighbors' yards.

"Hi!" calls out the first kid. "How are you doing?"

"Could you guys please cut that out? There are pets and kids around here."

"We're not doing anything," the second one laughs.

"Come on, guys, don't be douchebags, just have a little respect."

"Hey! We're not douchebags!"

"All evidence to the contrary."

"Huh?"

Then I had to calm down the neighbor's dog and make sure she got home safely before I could get my kid back in the house.

"Mom, that was so cool that you called them d-bags!" my kid said proudly.

"I only called them d-bags because they were being d-bags."

"Why didn't you call them a-holes, too?"

"Because I felt that d-bags was sufficient in this situation."

"Oh," he shrugged. "Maybe next time."

Labels: adventures in shitty parenting