Part II of this series focuses on the events of Tuesday 9/19 and Wednesday 9/20. 9/19- 19:57 Mrs. Honish came upstairs and I settled into a spot by the window with my phone to partake in a Twitter chat with fellow Geography teachers. As she told me I was overreacting for sitting in the window, I thought to myself "It's a good thing she doesn't know I already unraveled the garden hose so I have maximum defensive range." The forecast called for thunderstorms Wednesday night so I was prepared to battle TONIGHT. I didn't need to wait long... 20:52 Shadowy figures were spotted darting across my driveway from right to left. I sprang to my feet. "They may take our pine trees, but they will never take... OUR FREEDOM! (or something equally as heroic probably)" I yelled as I burst through the front door. I grabbed the hose which I had coiled in a strategic position and started moving around the side of the garage toward the enemy... but then Mrs. Honish emerged from the doorway. 20:53 "PUT THE HOSE BACK NOW" "Why? They're right around the corner!" "No, this is childish, leave them alone!" "They're asking for it!" It was at that point she started reeling the hose back in toward the house... and a game of tug-of-war ensued. 20:55 I relinquished the hose. Happy wife, happy life as they say. However, I did convince her to let me creep around the side to scare the living daylights out of our attackers. Mrs. Honish turned all the outside lights off and I waited a minute to lull them into a false sense of security, then proceeded to make my way around the garage. As I side-stepped around the pine tree, one of them began walking right towards me, oblivious I was there yet. "YAAAAAAHHHHHHH" I yelled with my hands up in the air. "EEEEEEEEP! Oh my God, Honish, you totally scared me!" ...Allison Hoffman, Sophomore, Class of 2019, was leading a band of the least likely kids to ever TP a house into battle in my yard... for the second consecutive year. "YOU GUYS AGAIN? YOU GOTTA BE KIDDING! Get outta here!" I yelled. ...all was silent except their TP in the branches... "OK, fun's over, you got caught red handed" Still no movement, so I picked up a roll of their own ammo and chucked it at Nate Draeving, making it clear I would like them to leave my property... except they didn't. 21:02 (the surrender?) I returned to the front of the house and reported to Mrs. Honish that they were just continuing their assault, despite being outed. "So what? Just let them be," she said. "So that's it? You're waving the white flag? Surrendering #FortHonish?" "Uhh, it's not surrendering because it's not an actual battle... and stop calling it #FortHonish." 21:12 I had returned to the front window, dejected and "defeated" by my own Commanding Officer. I had technically won the battle based on every long-standing unwritten rule of homecoming. If you get caught, you're supposed to bail. That's how the game works. The TP assailants were finished rolling the house, but they had one more metaphorical rubbing of salt in the wound as they strolled down my driveway much too casually, "By Honish... Thank You!" WEDNESDAY 9/20 Since we all but surrendered #FortHonish last night, and since the lighting was coming fast on a night where the temperatures still hovered well above 80 (much too warm for black hoodies and backpacks, right?) I figured it was time to kick back and just watch the season finale of Big Brother. 19:17 Leah had already been put to bed, Jackson was crying in his room not feeling well, and I casually glanced out the window... at fresh TP along our deck and in our front tree. Barely after 7pm and we had been smoked! Maybe it was all going to end early and everyone would return home before the lightning got worse? Or maybe they were calling it an early night before hitting the school Thursday? Whatever the case, at least it was over now and I could just enjoy Big Brother. 19:30 Knock, Knock-Knock-Knock-Knock..... Knock, Knock! Ok, Jackson is still not feeling well and is barely asleep. We've clearly been hit already... and yet, you have the audacity to come right up to the door? It's on now... ... except it wasn't, because whoever knocked turned tail pretty quickly and didn't stay around to partake in any meaningful skirmish. 20:50 A parade of high schoolers came not-so-secretly down the street, announcing their presence to literally anyone within a quarter mile I am sure. This was clearly not a strike force... or at least not one I would have to take seriously, so I mosey'd out onto the deck to watch. Mrs. Honish, out of genuine curiosity at who would honestly make that much noise while carrying TP through a well-patrolled neighborhood during homecoming week made an astute observation. "Wow... quite the pottymouths". Indeed they were, as we heard many expletives mixed in with the stories of who had been hit by flour and how it was LITERALLY insane. 21:27 Thoroughly disappointed with the finale of Big Brother (wow jury... salty at Paul much for getting you all out with no blood on his hands?) and with the lack of legitimate attacks on my house, the lack of permission to defend my house from attack, and the lack of respect for being caught by a bunch of sophomores, my thoughts turned to Thursday night... the last battle. Or would there even be one? My house was already marked, most of their efforts would likely go to coating the trees in front of the school, and what's the use in driving away a group of kids when they don't actually leave when they're busted? Maybe Mrs. Honish is right and maybe #FortHonish should become a thing of the past... or maybe Thursday night will be absolute mayhem...
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AuthorJohn Honish: Archives
June 2021
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