Popping up...

I know you're likely sick of how much I carry on about them, but the Jackass Neighbors are still our neighbors and aren't showing any more signs of clearing out. And Jackass Neighbor Man is still fond of setting his car alarm late at night and early in the morning, making his car horn tootoot in a way I gather is most satisfying to him. Certainly he derives some sense of self-fulfillment from that, as much as he does it.

He's evidently picked up a new means at attempting satisfaction. Saturday morning, in the early hours of daylight, he was (I think) trying to bounce a wrench around his driveway. Either he didn't have much success or he found something he really enjoyed, because he did it, and did it, and did it again. And then what did he do? Set the car alarm a few times. Perhaps he is just of a nervous temperament, and feels compelled to set the thing over and over. Will it work? Will it turn back off? Will it work? Will it turn back off? Better check again. Wait a minute....did it work?

Since I was awake, I got up and had some coffee. Didgeridoo Boy and I decided to go do a little shopping - I needed a few things for the round of yard work I decided to take on (don't ask), and every now and again we git bitten by the dollar store bug. I asked if he'd heard any of the apparent wrench bouncing and car horn tootooting, and he just *stared* at me. The subject was changed. At our last stop, Walmart, I spotted something:

"A fun trick NOISE MAKER"

And I was very, very surprised at a thought completely unrelated to yard work that popped into my head at the sight of those things. I stared at the display for a couple of minutes before Didge asked what I was looking at. I pointed. He said, "Oh, cool! Are we going to get some of those?" As I was taking that snapshot, I said, "No. And let's go over here and I'll tell you what just came to me. We're NOT getting those things." Didge really wanted them, I could tell. "But why not?", he asked. And I said, "Well, I just had a thought. The Jackass Neighbors have a door mat. That's all I'm saying." And away I walked.

Didge fully understood what I did not voice, and indicated he thought that would be most amusing while dropping the subject every bit as hard as I did. We didn't bring it up again, and I pushed the thought out into the ether where it belongs, and where it will very well stay for eternity. We will never speak of the thought again. It is gone, that thought.

These people are driving me absolutely, positively, batscat crazy.