the other evening, we came home to find shards of what appears to be carrara marble strewn about our roof and our backyard. it looks like pieces were hurled at our garage, too. we did notice that there were some pieces on our neighbor's garages.
casey is contemplating the possibility of the detritus actually being airplane trash [planes follow irving park road to o'hare].
ever the conspiracy theorist, i maintain the mess is from the across-the-alley neighbors, still pissed that the cops were called on their weekend-long cinco de mayo extravaganza a few weekends back. i state my plea -- i only called the cops once: at midnight, the horny latin disco music and echo-heavy telemundoesque mic voice were still shaking my window panes. surrounded by my pillow nest, there i was with eyes locked open, imagining my poor junior juice breaking the sound barrier out of frustration. in my robe and slippers, i am then carrying my red-faced, screaming son under my arm into their yard to spew my wrath.
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