Dave has talked recently about co-workers bringing in their kids swag (E.G. wrapping paper)to sell at work.
Tony wrote about the Girls Scouts selling their cookies at his doorstep.
This afternoon while watching UF kick the shit out of UK, I looked towards the window and noticed a kid staring in at me. PEEPING TOM!!! PEEPING TOM!!!
At this point my dog, seven pounds of pure fury, notices him and lunges off of the couch to the chair where she can properly give this kid a talking to.
I go outside where I notice a box of chocolate at his feet and ask, "Can I help you?"
Mumbling kid: YouwannabuysomechocolatetoletthefutureleadersofAmerica?
(Parents, I, in general, have no problem helping out the kiddies, but before you send your kids out onto my doorstep, please realize that if you don't teach them how to speak correctly, I will.)
Me: Excuse me?
Mumbling kid: SIGH!!!YouwannabuysomechocolatetoletthefutureleadersofAmerica?
Me: I know that you want to sell me something, I see the box at your feet, but I can't understand the words that are coming at of your mouth. What are you raising money for?
Kid: The future leaders of America.
(AH-HA!!! He can speak!!!)
Me: Ok, do you live in the neighborhood?
(He shakes his head "no" at first but then thinks that I'll only buy if he lives in the neighborhood, his head shaking turns quickly to nodding. Regardless of his lying, I can appreciate that he is trying, but he just sealed his fate.)
Me: Oh, you do? Then your parents must know that there is a large sign at the entrance to our subdivision that says "NO SOLICITING". It is also written in the Homeowners Association Laws.
(The kid starts to bend over to get his chocolate.)
Me: And for future reference, don't peek in people's houses before you ring the bell, it's really not nice. To see if someone is home, just ring the doorbell, if we want to talk to you, we'll open the door. Have a nice day and good luck.
Some of you might think I was cruel, harsh, or a jackass to this kid who was just trying to raise money for whatever trip or prize he was trying to earn. Being the heartless SOB that I am, I was not going to reward his peeking in my house or his mumbling English with a sale.
Funny side note: As I was writing this, the doorbell rang again. My first thought was, "shit, the kid's back and he brought his 300 pound Dad." I peaked through the peep hole and saw a mini-van in the street and below me was the most dreaded site to a man home alone with no cash; A Girl Scout. Turns out I didn't even get the option to turn her down. She was delivering the cookies that my wife had already ordered.