The Boys.

Boys will be boys, that's for sure. Always loud and always moving. I wanted to shoot them the first night I stayed in the apartment. 7:30am rolls around on Sunday morning and the boys are downstairs SCREAMING at each other. That's after the blessed train woke up me at 1am since the train tracks are literally in our backyard. 

I don't for sure know the ages of the boys, but I'm guessing somewhere between 7 and 10. An age that I don't recall hating my life, but I guess life is harder nowadays. One night recently one boy was in 

T R O U B L E. Dad and Mom were yelling at him for some time and he cried for a while. Then, he was stomping around and more yelling commenced. The excessive noise died down for a moment and all of a sudden I hear the child running through the house screaming "I HATE MY LIFE!!!" I wish I had a string can to the floor at this point because I obviously was DYING to know why he was in trouble. I've made up a nice scenario about how his grades weren't good and they took away his life of electronics and freedom. Bleeding hearts of the world unite!