I'll miss you, neighborhood

Every time Ike and I take a walk, three little kids on my street stop climbing trees/riding bikes/riding scooters to come say hi. I'll let you soak that in for a second. Kids... are playing outside. I didn't realize they did that these days.


Anyway, the kids' excitement over seeing Ike never wavers. They scream his name, tell him to sit, ask him for kisses, and then say, "Well, we should probably let Ike finish his walk." or  "It's always good to see Ike!"


With no sarcasm whatsoever, I can say I'll miss those kids. 


Our neighborhood is interesting. If you head in one direction, you're 2 blocks away from some of the nicest houses in the city. Another direction and you're a block away from a snooty tennis court. But in the other direction? Let's just say you don't want to go there.


A few other things I will, rather sarcastically, miss:

• 7 pm phone calls to a friend/neighbor  to ask if she thought that noise was a gunshot or a car backfiring.
• Finding the 3 B's of sketchiness on the sidewalk while walking: bullet casings, brass knuckles, and boobs. Yes, I once found porn on the sidewalk. What, you never have? Where do you live, Pleasantville? Agrestic?
• Neighbors stopping by to let us know that a man with a chainsaw was spotted on our street at night.
• Domestic screaming matches at 4 am. Bonus: if they end with a man leaving the house at 6 am, shirtless and double fisting Bud Light.
• My car getting broken into. Although it did force me to clean it out, so... thank you, person wearing Y's TJ Maxx coat and wondering why that GPS you stole won't work (HINT: you forgot the charger).
• Getting stopped on a leisurely Sunday walk around the neighborhood by a driver asking us if we've found Jesus. I guess we looked lost.
• Domestic screaming matches at 4 am at a different house. This dispute was apparently solved, because the next day I saw the couple shaving themselves together on their front porch. Which is a sure sign of reconciliation.