Things have been a little weird around here.
Undercover police officers have been hanging out in my neighborhood; wearing plain clothes and parking in "unassuming" vehicles. Apparently, my neighbor's creepy, weirdo son is a "wanted" man. I'm not sure what he's done, what crimes he has committed, or why he wears the ugliest jeans known to man...I just know that the police have been looking for him.
Earlier this week, as I went to the fridge to get some milk for the kiddos, I happened to glance out my kitchen window.
"Why hello there, handsome," I said, as I looked at the man who was being framed like a portrait by my window pane. He was in a dress shirt, gray slacks, and a pretty silk tie. He was talking on his cell phone. He had a gun in a holster and a sparkly badge on his hip.
"James!", I yelled, "I think there is a federal agent in our backyard!" Because you see, I am an expert on federal agents. I go to the movies. I watch TV. I can spot one from several yards away...which is about how far away he was from our house, leaning slightly on the fence beneath a tree. (McMan's response was typical--uninterested and unimpressed. "Uh...okay," he said.)
Mr. Handsome Agent looked up and noticed me and my kids standing at the window. We waved cheerfully at him. No response. He donned his dark shades (sooo classic) and started to walk towards the front of our house.
Well, shoot! My curiosity had been tweaked! I ran to the front of the house, to the large window in the living room, and looked out at the parking lot.
"Holy shmokes, there's another one!", I yelled. Equally handsome. Equally dressed nice. Equally carrying a gun. They got into an unmarked car and drove off.
To make a long story short, we have been asked by a local authority to be on the lookout; like a neighborhood watch. As residents of this nice little community, we are keeping our peepers open! We are like that dog that takes a bite out of crime. We are peeking from our blinds and watching for an ugly "low-rider" and a dude who styles his hair like a goober. (Blech, too much gel.) It's DEFCON 1 around here, and I'm seriously contemplating camouflage as my new wardrobe staple. Good people live here! We are not going to stand for poo-poo-ca-ca on our street. No, sir!
I'm ready! You bet I'll help my local officials. (And those cutie pies who wear silk ties.) I'll call the authorities at the very appearance of "shadiness"...or bedazzled jeans. My neighbors and friends can rest easy knowing I will protect our street from all the forces of evil!
And I don't need to know where to go to purchase handcuffs. Trust me (*wink*), I already have them!
(Note: There is a "happy" end to this story. I'm very relieved. The "ending" came last night, when close to 20 police officers swarmed my neighborhood and made their arrest. Thankfully, they caught the guy they had been looking for. I celebrated by eating a doughnut.)