Tate, the youngest of my next door neighbors

by Leslie Jacobs


 

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Living next door to three young boys provide me with lots of laughs.  Tate, the youngest at 5, spilled a drink on my desk but failed to tell me. Ian, age 9 was sitting in the chair next to the desk also failed to tell me. They were playing a game on my electronics.  So, when I told Tate and Ian that they spilled something on my father’s desk.  As both boys were watching me clean up the mess and getting a little irritated they didn’t tell me---- Tate said “it’s a good thing he’s dead. “

I had to walk away so they wouldn’t hear me laughing.

At the boys home, they are re-doing the outside by cutting down trees (thanks for the fire wood) to install a fence for their dogs, Hoover and Joan. The fence will divide my property from the boys, but will have an entrance so we can still cut through their lawn. As I was telling Tate his parents would be installing a fence he panicked and said “how will we get to your house? “