Child-Care Facility Cat-Calls

Behind my house, & to the left.

Can a grown man* be cat-called?  Or wolf-whistled?

Can a child do any of those things anyway?

I might have mentioned, I live catercorner to a church that has a daycare (see picture above).  Or child-care facility.  Whatever they call it.  Child hostel.  Juvenile detention center (just kidding).

This is entirely hearsay** - or idle gossip - but someone told me the church isn't doing so great in terms of congregants, that it's been hemorrhaging members for some time, but that it more than makes any of the money it needs by being a low-cost place for working parents to drop off their kids.***

The kids range in age from toddlers to probably fourth- & fifth-graders; it seems like it's mainly the five-year-old & older kids who are allowed to play near the fence which my property shares with their property.  Their toys - mainly bouncy balls - are often inadvertently tossed over that fence, & I've had to call the people who work for the church/daycare**** to tell them not to let the children climb the fence to retrieve the balls & toys because, you know, lawsuits.  As much as it pains me to deny children a childhood in this day & age.*****

Recently, since the weather's been nice, & they've been allowed to come outside, they've been yelling at me the oddest things.  First of all, they call me "sir," which will always freak me out.  Who are people that enjoy being old enough to be called "sir"?  When I came outside with the dogs today, I heard one of them say, "The man is back!"  I am officially the man.******

Usually, they say things like, "We like your dogs!"  But today & yesterday I've been asked, "Can we order a pizza?"  Or "Did you want a pizza?"  Or something shrieked that seemed to have the word "pizza" in it.

It's interesting to imagine playing pizza parlor.  I didn't usually play food service when I was a kid - I favored comic book stuff.

I don't engage them, for several reasons.  One, I think it's a little creepy, old dude chatting with kids over the fence.  Two, when they all gather at the fence & start talking, it's an amazingly unpleasant sound.  & three, I kind of refuse to because I wish the "teachers" would pay more attention to them.  The "teachers" usually are closer to the church, probably because they can smoke over there, & rarely venture out as far as the back fence.

They're inside now.  So many of my spring/summer days have the soundtrack of children screaming.  Because they don't really talk.  They scream.  & apparently, sometimes at me.

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* I'm referring to myself here, so I use the term loosely.
** When writing this, because I'm talking about a church, I first wrote "heresy" instead of "hearsay."
*** Whether this is true or not, the house the pastor lives in, which is next to the church, is kind of a dump.  At least from the outside.
**** Apparently they're called "teachers," although it appears their main job is like an attendant keeping throngs of wild children in line.
***** Yes, I toss the balls back over.  I'm not John McCain!
****** It disturbs me that I am the subject of conversation for children.
******* This comment doesn't have a corresponding sentence above.  It's just too many asterisks.  It might be funny to add one or two footnotes, but this was ridiculous.  I'm sorry.