Owning a home has turned me into an old lady. I called the cops last night to report a strange incident. It went a little something like this.

Dispatch: What would you like to report?

Me: There is a strange man on an adult tricycle lurking in my neighborhood. (yes, I said lurking)

Dispatch: Adult tricycle?

Me: Yes, it’s purple.

Dispatch: And he’s lurking?

Me: YES! (Obviously frustrated that this lady does not understand the gravity of the lurking so I elaborate). He’s riding his trike-y from house to house and looking in backyards and leering at people.

Dispatch: And you would like a police officer to come investigate?

Me: I don’t know! I am just nervous because of the leering and lurking. Plus, he’s obstructing traffic. (There’s the clincher!)

Dispatch: Okay, we’ll send someone out to investigate.

Me: Thank you.

After I hung up the phone, I watched through my drawn blinds as the cop came to talk to the guy. I realized that I must have given an awful description to the dispatch because when I went back through what I said, they probably were looking for someone like this:

Anyways, I realized that I have officially become an old lady, using words like “lurking and leering” and being fearful of adult-sized tricycles and the people who ride them. Daniel could probably list a million other reasons why I am becoming an old lady, but I think this one takes the cake.

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