Can't We All Just Get Along?

The gang warfare in my 'hood has reached epic status. Naturally, it's over turf and more specifically, the shanties headquarters forts the roving gangs have built in the woods behind my house.

Like most gangs, these gangs are divided by personal identity: The Girls and The Boys. The rules of the gangs are fluid however, and occasionally younger brothers align with The Girls and younger sisters throw gang signs alongside The Boys. There are drive-bys of the two-wheeled variety and insults are hurled. Today I heard actual swear words including "BS" (used out of context and in initial form) and "jerk" and the inexplicable "P-ass." (Maybe it was Pee-Ass.)

(I am assuming the Giant Four Year Old with the potty mouth said the s-word but I cannot confirm. He is loyal to the gang above all, even when he has no.fucking.clue what is going on.) (Again, with the s-word. Shit.)

The shacks trash piles forts are architecturally, aesthetically and in every other way different. The Girls have a sofa, a lounge area, a gymnastics bar (I shit you not), an entrance way that is paved and (seriously) a picket fence. The Boys have a blue tarp thrown over a rope tied between two trees with a moldy carpet remnant inside. They did however "plant" a discarded arbor vitae near the entrance because they are nothing if not dudes proud of their "lawn."

The Boys performed a sneak attack (during homework) and thoroughly trashed The Girls home away from home Barbie Dream House fort. Crying ensued. And I do not mean of the tattooed-beneath-the-eye variety. I was busy reading the local newspaper smoking cooking a nutritious meal when the Homies busted in the back door requesting a conference with The Don Mom.

"THEY CALLED US BABBBIIIIES!" "THEY SAID WE WOULD RUN HOME TO OUR MOMMYYYYY!"

I glanced up from the paper stove and said, "Well, um, hate to be all obvious, but aren't you?"

Sniffle. "WELLLLLL.... THE BOYS RUINED EVERYTHINGGGGGG!"

And I then I did something that proves we will never, in fact, all get along.

I said, "Go back out there and kick their asses claim your territory, tell The Boys to step off, and rebuild, little women, rebuild!"

And Goddamn if that gang, The Girls and their little mascot, did not beat back The Boys and send them scootering home. And how did they do it? They talked them to death. They rationalized. They explained what was fair and what was not fair. They referred to Gang Warfares of the past, like the way distant past, like ones The Boys could not.even.remember. They talked about feelings. They probably had pie-charts and Power Point back there for all I know. They ostensibly bored The Boys into defeat.

But peace came back to the 'Hood. And rebuilding efforts commenced. And all I could think was maybe it's too bad we won't have a woman for president.