You really had to be here. No, I mean it. 

So we have about 6 tons of rock on the hill next to our driveway. We're kind of over it and would like to plant something a little softer there. So I did what any desperate rock-owner would do and posted on Craig's List. It was a very normal, "Hey, we've got a ton of rock, bring a truck, you can park in the driveway and take all you need." We didn't get much of a response, so we were pleasantly surprised when we pulled up from Church on Sunday and found three young people shoveling rock into their truck. We politely said hello and then went into the house for the naptime routine. 

I hadn't been snuggling with Molly for more than 15 minutes when I heard a crazy amount of noise outside. Andrew was playing video games or something, and I think we made it to the sliding glass door right about the same time. Just in time to see the enterprising young people from the top of our driveway holding their heads in their hands in our YARD. 

And not just any yard, mind you. A "not-very-good-at-draining-after-three-days-of-rain" yard. Our gorgeous lawn that we've been working SO. INCREDIBLY. HARD. to get into good shape before we have consistently perfect weather and host an Easter Egg Hunt. I screamed. And then I heard my neighbor screaming. She was yelling all sorts of things at the children who mistakenly believed they could haul 2 tons of rock in their truck. As the girl put the truck in reverse to haul her 2 tons out of the driveway, it decided that it was hauling far too heavy a load and slid down the driveway and onto/into the lawn. "Into" as in 6 inches below the surface of the lawn. 

Andrew and I have spent many a conversation talking about how to help the yard drain better. I will tell you, a Dodge truck full of rocks and Chihuahuas is not the way to help your yard. 

I sort of let out this anguished howl, as mothers so often do when something they nurture and tend so carefully is injured or killed. Andrew leapt to the rescue, yelled at the screaming neighbor and then ran out to help the kids. 

An hour later they ran out of gas in our yard, still stuck. Andrew gave them gas. I pulled weeds furiously to try to distract myself. 

Two hours later, Andrew was covered in mud and the Chihuahuas were yapping. All three of them. THREE DOGS SHOVED INTO A TINY CARRIER. Whatever. 

Three hours later, I called the cops and a tow truck. Rather than continue in story form, I think I'll just bullet the high points. 

• I finally introduced myself to my neighbor, who is not named "Mike." His name is Jason. (We had been calling him Mike because that's what we called our last neighbors who didn't bother to introduce themselves to us. They looked like a Mike and Amy. So when our new neighbors didn't introduce themselves, we just started calling them Mike and Amy. Surprisingly, we do know a real Mike and Amy who are very nice people. Hi Mike and Amy!) Anyway, Jason. We chat, and he's not unkind, just not too terribly interested in others, from what I can gather.
• The children in the yard run out of gas again.
• I call the police several times to encourage them to actually respond to my call. At this point, I'm fairly certain that the Fort Worth Police are useful for 4th of July crowd control and little else. 
• The tow truck shows up and the driver is understandably ticked when the children in the yard declare that they're not paying anyone anything because they have no money.
• The police arrive and ask for ID. 
• No one has ID. Well, Andrew and I do. The three children do not. Furthermore, they really provide no information about themselves. 
• Girl driver get belligerent. Officer cuffs her. 
• She then begins to yell, "I'm on dialysis! I'm on dialysis! Stop grabbing my arms!" 
• Andrew and I exchange a look that plainly says, "Why the freak are you hauling rock and getting in trouble with the law if you're trying to make it to your next dialysis appointment?" 
• Girl Driver's younger brother Elliot (Ashley, Elliot, Felipe. I will never forget that, so long as I have massive tire tracks in my yard.) gets bonkers about her arms and dialysis. 
• Cops declare that the truck is now ours because it's on our property and they can't take it. 
• We politely inform the officers that we don't want a truck, let alone a truck filled with Chihuahuas and rocks. 
• The tow truck driver is getting increasingly irritated. 
• Officer learns that Girl Driver Ashley has an outstanding warrant. He doesn't seem to care. 
• Girl Driver Ashley cries hysterically for 45 minutes. 
• I go inside to check on the kids. Green paint everywhere, a huge pile of Goldfish on Claire's tray. When I said, "Give Claire a few crackers" I just didn't envision it going like that. But she's happy, so...
• Small dogs are getting anxious. 
• Truck is still stuck. 
• We decide that the Lord Jesus would probably just give them the stupid money to have the stupid truck pulled out of the stupid grass so the stupid kids can get on their stupid way. Without the stupids. 
• I hand over my check card. $113, gone. 
• The apologetic kids offer to "put the rock back." 
• I flip out and yell, "YOU'RE LUCKY IT'S LENT!!!" 
• The tow truck driver discovers that his ramp doesn't work. 
• He proceeds to DRAG the truck about 15 feet out of the yard and then up our driveway with about 100 feet of chain. 
• The children leave without any real consequence, let alone any trouble for the outstanding warrant. That would, after all, involve some sort of paperwork. 
• I cry. And then I hand my poopy baby to the officers so that they can play with her while I process what just happened. They're thrilled as she grabs Officer #1's mustache and charms them silly. 
• The officers leave, thrilled that no real work was involved. 
• Andrew showers while I mope and whine.
• Andrew then heads outside and does a not-too-shabby job of fixing the damage. Next up, sod and grass seed to fill in what's left. 

The following pictures are just a small sampling of the horror we witnessed not a week ago. Feel free to cry alongside me. 

Claire says, "nom nom nom!"