The Challenge: Late one night a neighbor knocked on the front door and asked……….
The Knock on the Door
It was late when I heard the knock on the front door. After glancing through the window and seeing it was my neighbor from across the street, I opened the door.
“Mr. Maxwell, is everything okay?”
“No, it is not!”
Old man Maxwell spent the next five minutes in a rant about my kids. Apparently, they routinely have been making faces and catcalls from the upstairs windows at any one who walked or drove down the street. The final straw had come a few minutes ago.
“The Missus went to put the trash out and your kids were hanging out your upstairs windows flipping the bird and mooning her.”
I did a face palm and shook my head. “I am so sorry Mr. Maxwell. I’ll take care of this. I promise it won’t happen again.”
“It better not,” he said as he huffed off my front porch.
I closed the door and headed to the stairs.
What was I thinking to take in these kids? I knew when I took them in that they had all come from difficult backgrounds and had faced things in their little lives that no child should have to. But was I really equipped to take care of them?
I stomped up the stairs and when I got near the door to the front bedroom, I heard raucous laughter, giggling, and the sounds of tussling. Just as I got to the door, I heard a loud bang.
“Hey! Knock it off in there.”
I took hold of the door knob, but it was locked.
“Hey! What did I tell you about locking doors around here. Unlock this immediately.”
I heard muffled giggling and shuffling around.
“What you did to Mrs. Maxwell was not funny. I had Mr. Maxwell on the porch in my face. He is really p’o’d. I don’t want you doing that again. I can’t afford to have trouble with the neighbors. Do you hear me?” I banged on the door.
There was more shuffling and giggling. I jiggled the door knob again.
“Open this door NOW!”
Then I heard the juicy sound of a raspberry.
That was it. I swore I would never use this as a weapon against my foster kids but I had no choice. I could not have them continuing to act like little hellions.
“If you don’t shape up immediately and behave yourselves, I am going to have to arrange for you to go somewhere else. Now open this door.”
The sounds ceased and I heard the door knob snap.
I took hold again and the door opened. I walked into the bedroom.
I looked around the room. It was completely empty and totally silent.
“Now that’s better. Thank you.”
I shook my head as I turned to leave the room. Good grief, what kind of ghost whisperer am I when I can’t control them in my own house.
ljg (c) 2013