An Open Letter to the Vandals In My Neighborhood

I realize that Sarah is doing an open letter but this one is unrelated to what she is participating in. I apologize if this seems like a rip off, but I've been composing this bit of a rant since 5 am.

Since my husband heard "Hey let's smash some pumpkins." outside our window and went dashing outside, but was too late. So here goes.

Dear Vandals,
I realize that smashing pumpkins is a fine activity honored by the toothless inbred soceity you descend from. But I would like to take a moment to speak on the subject, regardless. (Note to vandals, the word is regardless, not irregardless which is not a word).
I have this little boy who is four. I find him to be extremely sweet. He would share his drink (even if it is a special drink like chocolate milk or coke), his treats, his food with you so that you could taste something good. He would like to share things with you that he thinks are funny, so that you could laugh too. He picked out this pumpkin after much running up and down the rows of pumpkins and conferencing with his dad about which one is the best one for him.
He painted it with joy. He painted giant blue eyes and silly pink ears and declared "It's me!" and laughed. He looked at my pumpkin and said "Oh good job Mommy your pumpkin looks great!" Like I said - he's sweet.
He nearly jumped up and down when we set the pumpkins outside to decorate the front of our house. He was full of one word - joy.
He doesn't know bad people exist. He doesn't know stupid people exist who don't care about a little boys joy or his tears.
And he isn't going to find out today.
Luckily the maintenance team here does a clean sweep every Nov 1 and takes away all the pumpkins, so he won't find out.
And I'm not going to wish you ill. Because you're the sort of jerk off that an ill wind will find all on it's own. You'll say something stupid in a bar and get your ass kicked by someone much bigger and legitimately meaner than you. You're a small weak person who took pleasure in wrecking someone elses happiness. There were three pumpkins on our porch. But you took my little boy's.
You picked up JOY, and you smashed it on the ground as though it was nothing.

Shame on you.