Camp HappyBadFun!

A story about rocks. And boys. And scary looking men with tattoos.

So Natie had a friend over the other day. His name is Robby. These boys have been best buddies since 1st grade and for the most part have managed to keep themselves out of trouble. Notice I said for the most part.

They were outside playing and things were going rather well when I heard the front door open. Next I heard, “Mom…you better come out here.” only it was said in a “You’re not going to like this.” sort of way as opposed to a “Where did all this money come from and who's Ed McMahon!?!?” sort of way.

I walked to the door, dread overtaking me as I hear Robby mutter “Oh man, this is gonna be bad.” As I reached the door, I saw a man standing there. He was bald-younger than me-with tattoos all over his arms. He had a cigarette poking out of his mouth and he was not smiling. Not even a little.

“Hi!” I said in my best “These-boys-have-never-given-me -a-moments-worry-so-they-couldn’t-possibly-have- done-whatever-it-is-you’re-going-to-tell-me-they-did- because-it –just-can’t-be-so!” voice.

“Uh…I was driving down the street when your boys threw a rock at my truck.”

My eyes close. “Did they hit it?” (How cute of me to ask like there was any hope of the answer being "No, I just thought you should know your son throws like a girl; you might wanna work on that.")

"Yes, ma’am, they did."

“Shit.” I’m pretty sure I just thought that but I can’t be positive. “Let’s go see.”

We walked the half block to his truck, and as we got closer, I could plainly see a gash in his white truck just below a sign saying “HOLLAND HOMES”.

I cringed as I asked, “Is that where it hit?” (Me being cute again)

“Oh…I dunno…it’s just my work truck so I’m not too worried about it. I just thought I should let an adult know about it.”

One eye opened as the realization slowly dawned on me: This slightly-scary-looking man wasn't mad. HE WASN'T MAD! More importantly, he wasn't going to make me pay for a new paint job!!!

I stood there—one eye open, the other pinched shut and just stared at him. I didn’t know what to say. I fully expected to grovel. I was all ready to recite my well-prepared “I’m just so sorry this happened but they’re not bad boys, they’re just boys” speech-with FEELING!!!-but he didn’t want it!

This display of graciousness was highly irregular and very unsettling! Which would explain the awkward silence that ensued.

I somehow managed to gather my wits and stammered, “Uhhh….BOYS! I think you have something to say to this gentleman.”

They turned to this angelic being with the bald head and tattooed arms and with all the sincerity 2 prisoners just released from death row could muster, offered up an apology. Rob started with “We’re sorry for throwing a rock at your truck.” And Nathaniel finished with, “Will you please forgive us?” My God, altar boys couldn’t have done it better!

The kind man nodded to the three of us and got back into his truck. I was stunned. The boys were stunned. As we walked back to the house, the obvious question was asked, “WHAT THE HECK WERE YOU TWO THINKING???” to which Rob meekly answered, “Usually they just go under the car.”

I turned to him and asked incredulously (because denial ain't just a river), “Usually??? You mean you’ve done this before???” A quick learner, he shut his mouth and played stupid.

We got to the house where I sat them down, had the obligatory lecture then produced a piece of paper and pencil for each of them.

“You’re going to write this man a letter and apologize again!”

I heard not one argument.

This is what they wrote: (and in record time, I might add)

to ser,
We are exdremley sorey that we threw a rock at your car. We ones agin thank you for forgiveing us if that scrached your car. We promis that we well never throw anything at a car agin. Plese forgive us.
From
Rob

We are so sorry that we through the rock at your truch. But we learned a lesson and I ask you if you will forgive us for the secent time. And we are so happy you didn’t call the police. Then agian, we feel so terrible for what we did.

Senserily,
Nathaniel

Yeah...I'd call it a good day. Rocks and all.

Posted by PamCHBF at September 21, 2005 03:56 AM | TrackBack