Dear Fellow Who Peed in Our Yard,
We currently live on a semi-busy street down a little ways from a gas station and an Autozone. People puffing on cigarettes or carrying sacks of beer often make the trek down the sidewalk in front of our house each night to the gas station to get more cigarettes or beer or occasionally a Redbox movie. Sometimes when I take the cans to the curb one of them will ask me for a cigarette as if it were the 50s all over again, and I tell him that I have none. He goes on his way.
You, however, have trumped all cigarette-puffing, beer-toting strangers and creepers. You didn’t seem drunk, but maybe you were on your way to the gas station in order to become such. Just like when you were a little fellow, you did not heed mommy’s warning to go potty before leaving the house. Will you ever learn? You looked at your environment around you and noticed a behind-the-garage area up a long driveway away from the street. This would be preferable to relieving your waters into the puddle at 7-11 and risk being seen. Even before you rounded the corner behind the garage, you already had your belt unbuckled, just to be ready. Oh, look– there’s snow– let’s make a fun design.
Upon finishing up, you took one last proud look at your work before heading back out to the street. What class. What gallantry. Nobody will know your secret act of darkness. Well, hopefully the snow melts before anyone notices, anyway. Why is it snowing in April in the first place? Whatever. Time to grab an eight-pack and get inebriated. 7-11 is so close.
–Jordan & Lisa