You read right. Yard pissers.
A group of four or five kids had just left my house when I saw one of them wander into my neighbors' yard across the street. Now, every light was turned off on that house, so it was obvious that they were closed for the holiday. I stuck my head out the door to keep an eye on things and saw the kid stop about three or four feet into their yard and assume the position. His back was to me. His feet were shoulder-width apart. Both hands were in front of him. His shoulders relaxed. He was pissing in their yard!
Now, I've found myself urinating in a lot of unique places -- some much worse than a stranger's front yard. And certainly, I'd hate for a kid to have to finish trick-or-treating with warm, soggy, stinky britches... But is the front yard really the best place when you're 12, sober and dozens of people who don't want to see your tallywacker are walking the street? I headed outside with the desire to stop him, but pretty much drew a blank on what to say.
By the time I reached the curb, I'd laid eyes on dude's little brother. Yep. Same deal -- feet wide, hands in front and pissing in the yard. And then, of course, I noticed that the whole scene was being supervised by the kids' parents -- or some other guardian-type person appearing to be of legal age to... I don't know... run for president.
With what was essentially a yard pissers foreman on the scene, I decided against taking any intervening action. Besides, if my neighbors' yard was good enough for #1, I didn't want them coming back to my place if they suddenly felt the urge for a good ol' #2.