The College Boy left a pizza box out again.
Does he think the raccoons are paying rent?
Because if they are, I would very much like to see the ledger. And perhaps renegotiate a few things around here.
It started, as these things often do, with one box. Just one. A late-night delivery, a flicker of porch light, and the unmistakable smell of pepperoni drifting across Magnolia Lane like a poor decision.
Now, we are not unreasonable.
We understand youth. We understand hunger. We even understand that sometimes a person looks at a perfectly good trash can and thinks, “That seems like a tomorrow problem.”
But what we do not understand is how that same person manages to forget that tomorrow comes with raccoons.
And not just one raccoon. Oh no.
The Situation Has Escalated
At approximately 2:13 a.m., there was a gathering. A full committee meeting, from what we could tell. There were at least four of them. Possibly five. It is difficult to get an accurate count when they are moving with that kind of… purpose.
One of them — and I say this with complete certainty — made direct eye contact with Gladys.
Not fearfully.
Not respectfully.
But as if to say, “We’ve been expecting you.”
Now that is simply unacceptable.
Gladys Has Concerns
Gladys has been very clear on this matter.
There are rules on Magnolia Lane.
There is order.
There are expectations.
And nowhere in those expectations is there a clause that reads:
“Late-night pizza offerings shall be made available to woodland freeloaders.”
She has already begun what she is calling a “neighborhood awareness initiative,” which so far consists of:
- Standing very still and watching
- Making pointed eye contact with The College Boy
- Honking, but in a way that suggests documentation is being kept
Ethel, On the Other Hand…
Ethel feels this is an opportunity for growth.
Not for the raccoons.
For The College Boy.
She has suggested we approach this with “gentle guidance” and “compassionate communication,” which sounds lovely in theory but does not address the fact that there is currently a raccoon who appears to have taken up a semi-permanent residence under the azaleas.
She has, however, drawn up a small sign that reads:
“Please dispose of your pizza boxes responsibly. The wildlife has opinions.”
It is decorated with flowers.
We are not convinced the raccoons can read, but it feels like a step.
A Note on Magnolia Lane Standards
We pride ourselves on certain things here.
- Porches that are swept
- Hedges that are appropriately trimmed
- Trash that is, ideally, contained
There is a rhythm to this place. A quiet understanding.
And while we welcome newcomers (even those with questionable pizza habits), we do expect a certain level of participation in that rhythm.
Final Thoughts (For Now)
We will be monitoring the situation.
Closely.
If the pizza boxes continue to appear, further action may be taken. Gladys has already begun drafting what she is calling a “formal response,” and I have been advised not to ask too many questions about what that entails.
In the meantime, if you happen to see The College Boy, perhaps gently remind him:
The trash can is not a suggestion.
And the raccoons are absolutely not paying rent.