Little league season is underway. I hate little league season. Wait. That sentence doesn't even begin to express how much I dislike this time of year. It should have been written in all caps. I HATE LITTLE LEAGUE SEASON. Ahh...that's better. Now before you beat me with your Louisville Sluggers, let me explain. It's not the little leaguers or the sport itself. It's the parents. And the utter disrespect they have for the people who live near the park where the games are played.
By "the people", I mean me. Every April I get edgy when 5 o'clock rolls around. Not just once or twice a week. Almost every day. Four days at the very least—and it doesn't let up until June. It takes almost every fiber of my being to not get irritated with these people.
They don't make it easy.
We live very close to the park which relies on street parking to do the job of "parking lot". Our driveway is along one of those streets. All the parents park up and down that street. Which is fine. Except for one thing. DON'T BLOCK MY DRIVEWAY! Desperate for a good parking spot, we constantly have noses and tails of vehicles blocking our driveway. We've already had to tell more than one person to move this season. And it's only May. It gets old quick. Plus, it's disrespectful.
However my dear internet friends, what I encountered yesterday has, by far, exceeded any level of disrespect I had yet experienced during a little league season. Let me set the scene. JQ came home from work and in his truck bed were some rocks for our landscape. We had dinner, gave G-man his bath, played and then put him to bed. There was a game in progress when we went outside around 7:30 to put the rocks in the yard. When I passed through the door out to the driveway I was baffled.
There was van parked in my driveway. That didn't belong to us. What the fuck? I'm shaking my head as I sit here and type this. I just can't believe it even happened. To have the audacity to park in a stranger's driveway and think it would just be okay. I was beside myself. In an effort not to start screaming at the top of my lungs for someone to move the van instantly before I called the cops, I grabbed a load of rocks and took them into the backyard. I came back out and just as I was getting ready to rationally walk across the street to talk to the coaches this guy comes running.
"I know, I'm sorry. I'm moving it. I was keeping an eye out to see if you guys came out."
What? No. Sorry isn't really doing it for me. I couldn't just smile and let it go. But I didn't yell. As he was getting into his van I looked at him and said, "You can't do that."
"I know. I'm sorry." he said again.
"It's private property. You can't just park here."
That was it. He gave me this baffled look like I was an ass for not saying "It's okay." when he apologized. Because, it's not okay. It's my property. He's lucky I didn't freak out on him. Which is what I really wanted to do. Seriously.