Biker Punks

Saturday was Drama's birthday party. He will turn 9 tomorrow. Yikes! Can't believe he has lived, I mean, he is 9 already. We were scrambling about the house, getting ready for the party when a friend dropping off his son told us our house got tagged. I though toilet papered, which isn't too bad. But no...
This is what we saw

Big Daddy's company car egged

Chocolate sauce says: Let us ride!

(at least they spelled it right)

Yes the biker boys had made a visit to our house. Now I am sure many of you saw this coming. My neighbor the CHP called it. He has survelliance cameras and I need to see if he caught anything on film.

I felt so mad, then bad for Big Daddy and his car. I called the police and the dispatcher sent over a real police officer this time, a WOMAN! Yeah, baby! Told her the story, including last week's conversation with Officer No Help Whatsoever. She didn't know who he was and was shocked when I shared the following line from Office He Who Shall Not Be Named: "Well, they are teenage boys, and I would do the same think if I were them." No kidding! Officer HWSNBN actually said that.

Well, Officer Girlfriend is getting ready for a frontal assault. She is contacting the middle school principal on Monday, and their "Resource" Officer (a.k.a campus cop), then she is going to patrol the neighborhood from 3pm - 8pm everyday. Then, she said she will follow up with me. SIGH!!! Thank you!!!

Officer Spice Girl asked me some questions of her report. Middle name, place of employment, etc. She smiled when I said I worked for the school district and taught primary grades, and said, "A ha! That's why! You can't rationalize with these kids. They are punks. Don't talk to them any more. I will take care of it." BAM! Thank you! She gave me her card with her number and the minute I see anyone, she gets a call and will come right over. After that, I felt better. After Big Daddy was able to wash off the car without damage, I felt much better, and was ready to party.

During church I thought about making cookies and leaving them for the biker punks, kind of a peace offering. But then, I thought about putting Exlax in the baked goods. Just keep fighting that little devil sitting on my shoulder.