Little Bastards, playing in the yard outside my window.
Dad on the stoop, too drunk/strung to do anything put put his bald head in his hands and yell.
The don't listen, in the high pitched kid haze of fun.
Run and scream. Baritone threats. Silence. Run and scream
Dad finally moves his hands to snare one running by and forcefully sits him down. His yelling is getting sharper.
Something is going to snap soon.
And then I'll be forced to do nothing.