So the homeless guy who lives in our driveway showed us this picture today, which he had cut out of the newspaper. Then he gave V some chocolate covered graham crackers and explained to me how he is a good guy, and that though he understood why we called the cops on him and his cohorts two days ago, it made him sad.
While he was telling me this, I realized it was 10:30am, and he was already (still?) drunk.
Now I appreciate the plight of homeless people, and I don't even mind too much when they live in my driveway, but since V was born, I find myself less sympathetic when screaming fights break out at midnight. In my driveway. And things and people get thrown around. Right under my daughter's bedroom window.
Because even if he has a thing for unicorns, that doesn't necessarily mean he won't hurt me and mine.
Deer me. What's a bleeding heart to do?
1 comment:
Keep callin' the cops, sister. If that makes him sad, he should stop having drunken fights.
Damn, sometimes I sound like a Republican.
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