Scrooge

That's what I feel like when I have to wheel Peter through that park out there behind the potted mini Christmas tree. While most of the Austrian kids had been waiting for yesterday, and the presents, the Turkish and Slav kids hang out over there, and are waiting for SYLVESTER. Otherwise known to us heathens as New Year's Eve. And yes, it's named after some obscure saint. Never bothered to google him. Just that fact was enough. I would like to research Saint Pantalon, one of these days though. There must be a story there.... and I'm not making that up, he's got a church in Venice named after him.

Those children can't wait to set off fireworks and firecrackers and make a hell of a racket. And because they can't wait, they start messing around with that stuff earlier and earlier every year, to the annoyance of the neighbourhood, and the ire of the dog owners out walking their four legged loved ones. Yesterday, I was wheeling him back to the house through there, and some little imp took aim, thought it would be fun to throw one right under his wheelchair, hey.

And I lost it. 'Don't you friggin' DARE! You'll wake up Baby Jeebus, and he'll GET you!' In German, of course, and loud. (No, have no idea where it came from, it just slipped out.) Well, the look on their faces almost had me in hysterics. Until I had three pair of sullen anatolian resentful eyes looking at me. So I moved ahead, and threw back, 'Or I'll get you, and I can run FAST.' They took off. So, yup, am certifiably Scrooge. (I told a couple of you the short version of this yesterday, sorry for the repeat. It just bothered me, somehow.)

Am sure some will wonder if possessing and setting off fireworks is legal here. It is, unfortunately. Unfortunately because every year people get badly hurt misusing them. And is why I find Sylvester itself a nightmare.

I'll be 'bah, humbug'-ing them on my way home that night, for sure.