When I was a kid, my dog got loose one day and ended up in the yard of the meanest man on the block. Shaking his fist, Dr. Schnorr yelled at me as I untangled Cindy’s chain from his shrubbery. “If you don’t get rid of that dog, I’ll get rid of it for you!” he said and I ran home crying.
I told my parents what had happened and they told me not to worry. How could I not worry when a mean man had threatened to kill my dog? I couldn’t sleep for fear of losing Cindy and for the anger I felt at Dr. Schnorr.
Then my neighborhood gang came to the rescue. One night after dark, six of us met in Dr. Schnorr’s driveway and hurled fresh eggs at his garage door.
It wasn’t the best solution but none of the adults had suggested anything better. My parents could have asked me to write an apology; they could have called Dr. Schnorr.
Looking back, I wonder about today’s adults, since I am one. Are we solving problems or just throwing eggs?
