Labor Day arrived and I’ve started to get phone calls from a few of my neighbors.

After our home was burglarized, I went knocking on doors and left my business card at every house where no one was home.

The stories I’m hearing are painting a nice picture and I’m narrowing down just who is responsible. There are some parents who just don’t care what their kids are doing. These parents will soon be reminded that they can be held financially responsible for what these kids are doing.

If there’s anything to come out of this, it’s the joy of reconnecting with my neighbors. When our boys were little, we knew every family on this street. Because we had kids, it was my job to know who the possible playmates were. We actually moved from another location partly because the boy next door was teaching my boys some bad habits. I mean, do boys really need to be taught how to pee in a bottle?

As the years passed and the kids on this street grew, they would call first, then come swim in our pool. They learned real quick: Rule #1 “Can you swim?” Rule #2 “Does your mom know you are here?” and Rule #3 “Bring your own towel.”

Back then, the only rule I really had to enforce was number three. These kids knew, Mrs. Kennett will call and check behind me. Mrs. Kennett will call Mrs.  Eubanks to see if a certain Eubanks kid is supposed to be here. Each parent was in agreement.

I had permission to discipline any kid who came here to hang out and would DO SO, and the kids knew it. If my boys wanted to stay out after dark to shoot hoops at the neighbors’ house, they needed permission; every day, every time, no excuses.

It’s interesting to see that as my boys are now grown and married with families of their own, it’s once again the kids who are bringing this neighborhood together. I just wish someone would get rid of that basketball goal that’s sitting almost in the road….(sigh)

Until next time…hug your child, all too soon they will be grown and gone.

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