Today I looked out the window to find a little boy chasing around his chow dog with a baseball bat. Not that I was looking to find that. I don't know what kind of person hopes to see a dog being humiliated by a seven year old neighbor who probably still wets his pants. But I found it nonetheless.
The dog was tied to a rope and couldn't get away as the boy swatted and swayed clumsily with the bat. Maybe he was drunk too? Those suburban kids start early with the booze.
And I thought to myself, "Maybe this is what seven year olds do when they have no supervision."
But no. I look out my window a little farther to see that his mother is just standing there watching. Probably drunk, too.
The whole drunk suburban family (because families these days only consist of divorced mothers and their fatherless sons), enjoying their hatred of animals. That's what I call bonding, friends.
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