dear crackheads...

Dear crackheads and other lazy ass panhandlers in my neighbourhood,

I know we are stuck co-existing in this big city but kindly refrain from breaking into our pick-up. The smashed windows and glass shards in my children's' car seats are royally pissing me off. This is the fourth time you've broken in and how much money are you really going to get pawning off a pair of sunglasses? Your sense of entitlement is pathetic. I am starting to get testy with you and am so inclined to say a few choice words but that wouldn't be a good example to my children. When I walk by you on the street please do not ask me if I have any change to spare... nearly half of my paycheck goes to taxes to pay for social services that if you chose to use might help get you out of the hole. Although perhaps you can't help yourself because our backwards thinking government thinks it's a good idea to put a needle exchange centre smack (pardon the pun) in our neighbourhood to help enable you further. They won't buy you the drugs but hey, they'll use my tax dollars to help get the drugs in you. Yet thousands of children go hungry in this city? Forgive me for sounding so aggressive and judgmental right now. Lack of sleep doesn't help... nor does it help when I've wrestled my two children to the car only to find glass everywhere.

I see enough of you at work. I have tiptoed through the cockroaches in your hovels, resuscitated your heart when you've overdosed, vacuumed vomit out of your mouth to try to get you to breathe. So forgive me if I don't have the patience for you when I'm back at home. I am not Mother Theresa but Lord I wish I could be. So, sorry, no handouts from me.

Hey, maybe next time I see you I'll ask you first for some change to spare... like a thousand dollars because that's how much it cost to fix the windows.