On a Wednesday night.
The tip off begins for the nightly game of children's league basketball.
Venue? Deuxieme etage. Toujours le meme.
The hitch? Basketball's broken.
But don't worry, the resourceful enfants have found an alternative.
That is, they're now playing basketball with a bowling ball.
Above my head.
My first guess though was that they were just throwing bricks around, but no, there is the distinctive sound of a rounded surface rebounding off of what is likely only a thin layer of drywall between them and I.
If only they had a quieter hobby, like tap dancing, or the bagpipes.
How young is too young to for adhd pills? Whatever happened to the kids who just sat and stared at the tv all night? Could this be the exact reason why people go to the suburbs when they have kids? Is it to spare the poor, mercifully childless downstairs neighbours? I'd like to think so.
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