It’s 2am, and my two year old daughter is pissed, and I mean pissed that her demands aren’t being met, her high pitched screaming tantrum has lasted 34 minutes and counting. To cope, I do a lot of swearing under my breath while trying to look unaffected. Somewhere between rolling my eyes, wanting to toss her out the window, and thinking about giving in, I notice some incredibly bright lights shining into her bedroom window. I look outside and there are five (FIVE!) police men and women standing with flashlights upturned to our 3rd floor apartment. I guess throwing the kid out the window has just been stricken from the list of possibilities.
They ask me, “Are you the lady with the baby?”.
I say “Yes”
They say, “Is everything ok?”
I say, “Yes, she’s fine, she’s angry she can’t watch Dora right now.”
They chuckle and tell me that they got a call from someone in the neighborhood before they turn their flashlights south and gingerly walk around piles of dog poo some jerk dog owner keeps leaving in our side yard.
Miraculously, my husband sleeps through all of this.
(ps. this photo is not from last night, I didn’t take pictures, this photo is straight out of toothless militias r-us, the flashlight pictured also shoots a steady stream of pepper spray)