Grumpy about the lovers’ quarrel

If you sit on the toilet in the half bath on the first floor of our house, your face is one foot away from a window looking out on the road. So if you’re careful in adjusting the shutters, you can watch the world go by while you do your doodie in privacy. If you’re, say, a guy peeing and you forget about the shutters, then the world passing by might have to see your sweet cheeks, for better or worse.

Right. I’ve already completely lost my train of thought, and I’ve only been typing for 45 seconds. Give me a second.

Oh. Here’s where I was going. I ran in for a quick pee and what did I see out the window but two teenagers fighting. I couldn’t hear them, but it was clearly a lovers’ spat, old school. She was moping and gloomy, staring at the ground and very emotional, but silent. He was angry, gesticulating and nattering. They were just standing there in my front yard, fighting. I didn’t like that. Nick came over, because I was peeing so he had a sudden inchoate need for me. I told him to look out the kitchen screen door, which is five feet away from the toilet. He pressed his face on the screen and stared at the young couple, but they took no notice. I told Nick, “say hi.” He complied. He put on his biggest smile, started waving wildly, and screamed repeatedly. “HI! HIIIIII!! HIIIIIIII!” The teens looked over in anger and shock. They scurried off down the street, just exactly like I remember peeps doing in the ’90’s when I would happen to interrupt their crack-ho deals on Logan Circle in DC. Good riddance.

Little kids are good for something after all.

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