So, yesterday was a day.
A day with feelings.
Dave saw something on the internet about a guy who lives around the corner from us who got picked up on burglary charges. I'd post what he saw here, but the guy's block is listed and I'm not so sure I'm completely comfortable pinpointing my street corner like that. My neighborhood, sure. There are thousands and thousands of houses in my neighborhood. My street corner, not so much.
Anyway, there is this guy who lives around the corner and he was arrested for breaking and entering and stealing. Is this our guy? Who knows. But probably. If he got in the way we think he got in, he'd have great access from where he lives to where we live.
A path straight to our door, as one might say.
Thanks to the power of the internet, Dave got his exact address and all sorts of other information for about $3 in 20 minutes.
I've mentioned that Philadelphia is the smallest town that you could ever hope to live in. Turns out this guy rents his place from a girl that Dave knows from high school. We didn't even know she owned a house around the corner. Now we know how much she paid for it and how much her taxes are and how many square feet it is. A girl who I'm in close contact with because she owns a fancy downtown salon and she waxes both my eyebrows and all of my mustaches.
A girl whose children go to school with my son.
Small town living.
That's good to know, just in case the police need cooperation from the owners of the house.
The most horrible part about this is I recognize the guy. Of course I do. He's my neighbor. But I wouldn't have six months ago. For the last few months, he's been trying to start conversations with me if I pass by him. I say hello and keep walking. I haven't answered his questions, which are pretty benign. "How are you" and "Are you new to the neighborhood" and "don't you live right over there" type questions.
I'm creeped out by him. Jake is creeped out by him. I've used him as an example in a lesson about people who creep us out/trusting your guts/manners.
I'm not one to make my kid say hello or shake hands or give kisses or whatever if he isn't comfortable doing so. I feel that forcing kids to kiss the weird aunt is counter intuitive to teaching them the "okay touch/not okay touch" thing. If your belly or your mind tells you to stay away, stay away. No matter if it's a relative or a friend or whatever. Guts trump manners.
Forcing kids to kiss and hug and touch and speak to people with whom they aren't comfortable who want to kiss and hug and touch and speak to them just because it's polite to do so or because it's totally awkward for everyone when Uncle So&so goes in for a hug and gets a cold shoulder from a tiny person is, in my opinion, wrong.
Yes it's embarrassing for me to be the mom of a kid who hides in my proverbial apron sometimes, but I'll take the embarrassment over being the mom of a kid who does every single little thing a grown up tells him to do if it means saving him from one day being in a situation where he is doing Very Not Okay Things to/with someone just because he wants to be "a good/polite boy".
Anyway, the guy is a creep and my thing is to be as minimally polite as possible to creeps and keep walking no matter what. A brisk hello keeps creeps on your good side without letting them in to your in side. You may not want creeps on your bad side.
This guy gets a brisk hello when he says hello but nothing more.
This guy has made me change my path taken home for the past couple months.
This guy kept me from getting ice cream at the corner store because he was standing outside last week.
But now that I know he may have been in my house and may have gazed upon my sleeping son and may have taken my things and may have seen me naked in my own bed, I want to
I don't know what I want to do.
Cry? Punch? Puke? Spit? Stab? Forget it all ever happened?
He's in jail. For now.
I hope the detectives get a warrant and are able to search his house. Maybe something of mine might still be salvageable. Probably not, but maybe.