The parking lot is not a playground.

Well it's not. But the kids in our apartment complex thing it is. There's about ten of them, they just ride their bikes around like they own the place. Well guess what, my car is bigger than your bike. I find myself waiting patiently as all ten of them shuffle from one side of the street to the other, and then sometimes back again. Really, I don't mind that they play, I encourage being outside instead of glued to a video game. It's just the fact that my front bumper has gotten awful close a couple of times, which makes me nervous.

It gets worse when they decide to play a game of tag. Really, it becomes a real-life version of Frogger. They dart and dodge around my moving vehicle to avoid being tagged. I hope I valued my life a little more than that when I was younger. The irony of it all is that there's a perfectly good grassy area across the street that looks way more inviting than the black asphalt, even if it is the landscaping around the AmeriTel.

I might just anonymously post this sign around our complex: 

I think the "thanks" really helps. Don't you?

But, it is things like this that make me crave my own home. In a real neighborhood. Without awkward neighbors who smoke all day long. One that has a garage and a backyard, maybe even a pool..I should probably stop. But for now, I will be patient and wait for the little munchkins to cross the street, while I day dream about my future home.

Have a good weekend!