Samantha: the blog

Now, I may not live in a trailer park in the backwoods of Alabama, but I certainly don't live in Malibu or The Hamptons either.
My neighborhood seems pretty safe for the most part. I only see the cops from time to time. But every once in awhile, I get some serious entertainment from my neighbors.
My favorite story is the neighbor who got evicted after almost setting the building on fire with her 3 year old inside. (She left the stove on after having a few too many beers.)
Or maybe the neighbors who started a brawl over a game of poker? That was exciting. (There were a few black eyes and bloody noses from that encounter.)
And of course, we can't forget the thieving, foul-mouthed, 12-year-old hoodlums and their noisy skateboards who camp outside my bedroom window ALL summer long.

With those situations, I just roll my eyes. I hear about that kind of stuff all day long at work. The drunken negligence and physical altercations are more commonplace than most people realize. And stupid 12-year-olds are up to no good no matter where you are.

But I drove by something this morning that made me just scratch my head:



(Excuse the blurry photo. It was taken whilst driving, in the wee hours of the morning. It didn't want to get out of the car and risk getting jumped by someone I could potentially need a cup of sugar from.)

Now, I don't claim to be the most polished and refined person on earth, but wow. I'm proud to say that I've never set up an inflatable swimming pool in a parking lot for my kids to play in.
(Also, thanks Mom & Dad for never doing that to me either.)

Now, I have nothing against inflatable swimming pools. Nor do I have anything against parking lots. I just don't think the two should mix.
It just doesn't seem like very responsible parenting to me. Do we not hear about children getting run over by cars often enough? Clearly the words playground and parking lot are not interchangeable.
And geez people. There's grass on the back side of the building. What's wrong with setting up your pool there? I don't get it.

At least my roommates and I have the bragging rights of being the three classiest people on our street. We should get a certificate.