Call of the Wild?

This morning, the past thirteen minutes to be precise, I have been inundated with numerous squeals and sounds from outside.

Was that a cat in heat? No. It was a child screaming for help.

Was that a peacock? No. It was another child in full tantrum shrills.

If I hear these sounds later in the day, I am less bothered. They are children and usually they are tired and in need of naps.

But in the mornings, I feel like Old Woman Caruthers and I want to take to my balcony and shout “Hey you pesky kids! Get off my lawn!!!” Or “Quit your squealing! I am trying to watch my stories!!”

Maybe it is time to move to a remote mountain top where the only sounds I hear are the shrieks of a hawk soaring through the sky.

Or, maybe I just get over it and look deeper into my limited patience and lack of any empathy for a screaming child.


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