Somethings cooking.

Every Saturday night, while the mother of the other duplex residents is working, they start cooking. 

It ain't no creme bruele.  

They crack their garage door a bit, and get to cooking.

Then the cars come, just a few, but always different ones.  

Maybe he is not a good cook. 

Tonight it was a guy, probably in his early 30s with a crying kid in the back seat.  I saw the neighbor come out of his garage and he saw us and started that whole, not doing anything act. 

I told the landlord earlier this week, but didn't really expect them to be able to do anything.  I thought maybe they could come up with some reason to go in the garage, but not really.  I have thought about calling the police, but they would know who called and I don't need them doing anything to the kids.