I was going to an open house with Misty when I drove past the White Lake Baptist Church. It was completely vacant, no one around, except for two goats. Two... Goats… Just standing there in the middle of a church parking lot. And you really couldn’t say anything except, “uuh… What the hell?” They looked pretty lost. This must be Montague when two goats wander the town aimlessly. Maybe their Noah’s Ark invite came a little late.

The dwindling days of school are making me impatient and mean. I came to this conclusion today when one of the hoodlum children got off his bus and walked towards his home. Maybe you’d have to see the kid to understand. He just looks like the kind of kid you want to palm in the forehead. Talking to himself loudly, doing a half skip half spastic run, swinging his backpack around like a lasso only inches away from my car.

While watching this child I transformed into an 80 year old lady. And not the kind that will bake you cookies and knit you a sweater. I became the Get-Off-My-Lawn Grandma from hell. Once he saw the flowers in my yard it was like a magnetic force between the two of them. This is when I walked over to the window. And just as his fingers touched the flower, almost plucking it from the ground, I banged on the window the remote control. He looked up in shock to see me, which was an 80 year old woman in a robe, hair half in curlers, whiskey in one and hand and a shot gun in the other (because by this time I had completely transformed into Evil Granny).

I’m entirely sure that I must be the scariest old lady because this kid looked up at me, screamed, and ran down the road. And all I did was grumble to myself and sit back down in my chair. It took me a while to get back to my normal state of Manda. But the good thing is I don’t think that kid will be in destructive mode around my house anymore.