Little Rascal Alley

The community I live in has a website, where you can check out upcoming events, classes, etc. But mostly it is just a place for people to go on the community message board and gossip, whine or complain about their neighbors (it is Orange County after all). There was a lady on my street who used to constantly post rants about the little children who played outside her window, and I used to think "What a bitch. If this is your biggest problem then consider yourself lucky". 

That was until yesterday, when during a PMS-induced migraine, the mini Harlem Globetrotters showed up under my bedroom window. When I get headaches I am more dramatic then Joan Crawford. Yesterday was no exception. As soon as I crawled into bed the action started. There were at least 6 of them, armed with no less than four balls and two dueling basketball hoops. All that was missing was the irritating Harlem Globetrotter whistled theme song and a crowd of bell-bottomed fans cheering them on. I tossed and turned as random balls banged against my garage door approximately every 2.1 seconds. 

Never have I been more tempted to throw open the window, with raccoon eyes and hair askew and pull a crazed Saturday Night Live Cheri O'Teri pill lady rant on those little f-ers. I'm pretty sure every child on the block was outside my window (with the exception of my children who only go outside if it is absolutely necessary). I refrained, because lets get real, they are just children having a good time, right? 

This morning there were three of them playing street hockey at the diabolical hour of 7:30 am. If this continues I'm going to have to grab a few wire hangers, throw on a bathrobe and face cream and go all Mommy Dearest on their fit, activity-loving asses. Just kidding. I love kids.