WYSIWYG Web Builder
The kids in my neighborhood have a new game. It's called "Ring Mike's Doorbell at Night." I installed a motion sensor on the porch light so I have some light if I come home late at night. Apparently it's great fun for the kids to try to ring the bell and run away without setting off the motion sensor. It's not that hard; I tested it.

They rang it again tonight. I looked to the front door and saw that the light wasn't on, so I didn't even bother going to see if someone was there. But then I thought about it for a minute. They were counting on the standard adult response to the situation: old guy comes to door, peers out into the darkness, yells "You damn kids stop ringing my doorbell or I'll call the cops!" Or something like that. The thrill of doing something naughty with a slight chance of getting caught.

What they got was me. I remember what it was like being a kid. Heck, I used to ring doorbells just like that. In retrospect, what a stupid thing to do. I was such a shit when I was younger. But the kid in me has never left. I figured their reload time, when they would try again, was about 10 minutes. So in 5 minutes I slipped out the back door and around the side of the house. Sure enough, in a minute or two a young girl sidled up the driveway and up to the steps. She was probably 12 to 13 years old or so. I can't tell the age of kids anymore, I guess that means I'm old. As she rang the bell, I stepped up behind her and asked, "Can I help you?" She screamed--of course--and pelted back down the driveway and out into the dark cul-de-sac. I just stood there and laughed and laughed and laughed.

Hey. Don't mess with the big kid.