The Boyz In The 'Hood

Our family had the good fortune of finding a nice little brick home on a nice little street where we are SURROUNDED by nice little boys that are all right around Cristian's age.  Cristian is almost 8 so the range is 6-12.  The houses on either side and the two across the street both contain boys in this age group.  And believe me when I say...that watching these boys interact is about the funniest stuff I have ever had the pleasure of being a live audience to.  The kid to the right is named Max.  He has two older brothers.  The oldest is referred to by us as the Fast And The Furious Kid.  cuz he has a snazzy car.  The middle one is always seen shlepping aimlessly down the street back and forth.  for what reason...I don't know.  we don't care for that one too much because we busted him pelting our cars with sandballs once and another time I had boys running into my house squealing because he was shooting at them with a pellet gun.  I hollered at him from the driveway..."Hey!  Don't be shooting at the house!"  notice I didn't mention not to shoot at the boys.  Max is maybe 10.  but he's a shorty papa.  he's usually too cool to hang out in my front yard but every once in a while I catch him sitting on my porch.  Alex lives across the street.  He has a teenaged sister and a little sister...and according to him, he also has a brother in the military living in Florida and sometimes the Army calls him to help them out on secret missions and they fly him (Alex) over there in a helicopter so he can assist and by the way, he also has an assault rifle collection that his older brother borrows from all the time for his "army stuff".  damn, he's a good bullshitter.  I made the mistake of sitting outside with the boys one time when I was TRYING to rollerblade in my driveway (beginner) and Alex would not leave me alone already with all the instructions of rollerblading and then I was somehow trapped in a nightmare of bullshit about his secret missions and blahblahblah.  I barely escaped with my life.  Alex is 8.  The other 8 year old in the bunch lives next door to Alex.  His name is Pacquito but we call him Pac-Man.  He and Alex have this strange aversion to shoes, therefore...making them remove their shoes before they go into the playroom becomes impossible.  Last time I implored Alex..."Next time wear shoes cuz I can't make you take off your feet!"  dirty little things that they are.  but loads better than the muddy socks he has tried entering with on more than one occasion.  To our left, resides "The Brothers Garcia".  Not their real names but they remind us of that show on Nickelodean so we refer to them as BG1 and BG2.  BG1 is the older one and BG2 is the younger.  BG2 is one of those kids that needs to be medicated or he acts like a freaking lunatic.  He's the kid that not only rings the FUCK out of your doorbell, but persistently knocks as well.  I believe he uses both hands for this.  He is also the popsicle thief.  Twice I found him sitting at my kitchen table eating popsicles that I did not offer, nor did I provide.  On both occasions his ploy was to tell Cristian that he was going to the restroom.  after the second time I told Cris..."He's not coming over here anymore if you can't keep an eye on him!"  So the next time the kid said he was going to the restroom...Cristian went running after him shouting..."And you better not be getting a popsicle or my mom says you can't come over anymore!"  I mean...jeez...it's not like I can't share my popsicles but...ASK me for one.  anyway...that was embarrassing.  When these boys come over Cristian is also in the habit of checking with them after they use the restroom...which they inevitably do..."Did you wash your hands?"  he asks...and then if he doesn't believe them HE FEELS THEIR HAND TO SEE IF IT IS DAMP!  Criminy!  what kind of little asshole did I raise?  a pretty damn clean one, I'll admit.  There are other kids from down the street too...but we don't really like them.  Especially one they call Spongebob.  not after the day Cristian burst through the door covered in sweat and dirt wailing..."Spongebob won my Tassos!  I gotta win them back!" all the way down the hall and into the playroom to grab more of these things called tassos.  We discovered that Cristian was betting his Tassos (whatever the fuck they are, don't ask)  on "one on one" soccer games in which Spongebob was allegedly cheating.  and for some reason Cristian thought that he could somehow beat this evil cheater the NEXT game...and the NEXT game...and okay the NEXT game.  we immediately put a stop to this pre-pubescent gambling addiction and the kid very nearly went hysterical with panic.  you see...he really loved those Tassos.  So needless to say, Spongebob isn't a regular in our front yard.  The Tasso Debacle saw to that.  but as for the rest of the little maniacs...we do enjoy watching our son grow up in this place.  it reminds me of childhood and all the good things.  porch lights and grass stains and dirty little fingernails.  rock collections and bicycles and sprinklers.  the ice cream man ( he's a greedy bastard, I swear he comes down our street at least three times every evening and causes mass frenzy every time) and scabby knees and lightning bugs.  I'm glad my son has these things...even if some of it does drive me a little insane some of the time.  I just try to remember to....keep a rug by the door, keep quarters readily available, and turn the porch light on when its time to come in.  God Bless my neighborhood, hallelujah.