Good Kids

I looked out the living room window the other evening, wondering if my boy was in the yard working on his truck so I could call him in for dinner. He wasn't, but these guys were. All just hanging out, talking, checking out the high powered dirt bike that one of them had unloaded off the back of his truck. Our yard, and one of his friend's yards just around the corner, have become total "hang-outs" the past year or two for boys in the neighborhood and from school. A scene like this one is not unusual. The kids are a variety of ages, and from a variety of backgrounds, but they all have in common a love for working on cars and motors and riding fast bikes and four wheelers and snowmobiles and talking motors and trucks and cars, ripping things apart and putting them back together. My yard is a mess. It's full of tires, and old cars and trailers and all kinds of projects I would LOVE to have gone. I really would love my lawn to be a lawn, not the front yard of a chop shop, or in need of a fence to hide the car parts from the poor neighbors across the street.   However, when I looked out at these guys, I knew every one of them, and know that ANY one of them would give you the shirt off his back if you were in need of one. They are all good. kids. They carry in my groceries when I come home from the store if they are here. They help themselves to a bowl of stew if it's on the stove and they're hungry. The chase my dogs and bring them back when they get out. They don't use bad language around me. When my boy goes off to college next summer, I'm going to miss having my lawn back.