Evil thoughts

Sundays are to be quiet. One of the religions I grew up in, dutch reformed christian calvinists, didn't allow any activity on Sundays. One town in the area which was full of these folks, had ordinances that cars and lawnmowers were strictly forbidden on the Sabbath. They were horrible hypocrites, but that is another story.

Today, my neighbor who blissfully never uses the outdoors except as a conduit to the car and to the store to feed his fat face, decides to power wash his pool, presumably for the pleasure of his (?) incredibly annoying children. They are so afraid of the outdoors that they only spend
30-45 seconds per day in the backyard to feed the dog. The dog only knows the backyard.

For the thought that the boys and Satan would be proud of:
I am currently upstairs, watching the process from my desk. The man is standing in a half-foot of water, and the daughter has just stepped into the pool. The cord of the powerwasher is attached to an extension cord, the connection of which is draped over the side of the pool, mere inches from disaster. I can't look away.

I hope the birds poop in the pool and the squirrels drop apples into it, for the headache I now possess.