"Hatfield" vs Erickson

My husband's family is pretty well known about Duluth. His father is active in several social clubs, owns a few properties, and is referred to by most as the "head of the Norweigian Mafia." Everyone knows there are no mafioso that are Scandanavian, but you get the idea. A pretty important guy around here.

So I have to be careful what I say here...

The other day on the way to pick up my kiddos from day care, I was taking my normal route and just happened to be behind a school bus. Where I turn off the #4 onto the dirt road where my daycare provider lives, there is a turn lane that the bus pulls onto to let a couple kids off. I waited patiently behind it. I was in no particular hurry and was enjoying actually listening to the radio, not Russ Bono singing about singing frogs. (Zane's favorite song)

Two boys belonging to one of the other infamous Duluth families got off the bus. They're infamous for their eccentricity, their role in the Apostolic Lutheran sect, their old-fashioned beliefs concerning the roles of women, and their large broods. (Simonsons, Lipes, Bruckelmeyers, etc.)
I watched them both flip the bus the bird as it drove away. Not impressed, I drove past them.

I am one of those people who wears her heart on her sleeve. My lack of appreciation for these two pre-teen boys' antics was probably written all over my face. I'm pretty sure they got wind of it, too, because they yelled something unpleasant at me as I drove past them. One boy, the bigger of the two, picked up a rock and actually threw it half-heartedly at my truck.

Now, my truck is no gem. My kids write their names in the dirt on the sides. The tailgate frequently begs for me to "wash me." There are a couple pretty good dents in it, and the paint is starting to peel off along the bottom of the doors. But I will be damned if I was going to let those little punks act that way toward me. I slammed on the brakes and backed up fast.

The looks on their faces were priceless. I think the younger boy peed himself a little bit. I asked them if they had something to say to me. Both were shaking in their Nikes at this point. They mumbled "no" and stared at me. I suggested at that point then that they not yell, throw things, or wave a certain finger at any other cars again. This was done under threat of me giving them a ride home so we could all three talk to their mother together and figure out how to solve their little attitude problem.

Now, knowing what I know about their family, I doubt their mother would be able to discipline these worthless little turds at all. I wondered what she would say to me, an outsider, chastising her children. I'm pretty sure she would take one look at my short hair, tattoos and ratty clothes and deem my ass unworthy of opinion.

But for the sake of not starting a feud that rivals the Hatfields and McCoys, I sure hope those little shits don't mess with me again. 'Cuz messing with the Norweigian Mafia around here is like playing with fire...eventually you'll get burned. (And as an Italian, I know some pretty good REAL mafia moves, and am not afraid to use them.)