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Precocious Intruder

There is a boy in our neighborhood who has discovered that there are five boys living in the house across the street from him.

Since then, there has been no end to the ringing of the doorbell. That is, if the door is locked. If the door happens to be unlocked, much to my dismay he will walk right into our house without even knocking first.

The child is only four, and yet I have come to the point where I am on pins and needles.

Just two days after playing with the lost boys, he joined us for dinner twice. To this day, I'm not quite sure he had permission. At least, I can say that we taught him that he should pray for his food before he gobbles it up. At one point, he started digging in before we could pray. I said, "Wait! Wait! We have to pray first!" He said, "Huh?" in confusion. I said, "We have to thank God for providing this food for us." He scrunched up his face and exclaimed, "You mean Jesus?" Bashful asked sarcastically, "What! You never heard of him?" Swinging my head around in shock, I informed Bashful of his rudeness. Trying to smooth over the situation, we folded our hands and prayed for our food.

Through the rumor mill, which is Grumpy, I was informed that his mother does not want him to go into our house. Smart of her. I agree. I'm just not sure he agrees. Whenever it is time for us to eat our dinner, he loudly exclaims interest in eating with us. I will tell him to go ask if he can and shove Grumpy out the door telling him to make sure. They always come back with contradictory answers. One of them says, "Yes, of course, he's allowed to eat with us," and the other informs me with the truth. So, I have to practically shove the child out the door before someone gets in trouble. Hopefully, not me.

Before we had the guts to put our collective feet down, Doc and I weren't sure how to treat this little person who constantly invaded our privacy. For our peace of mind and his mother's, we've had to be firm with him and not let him in again.

Therefore, when he wanted to come inside to use our bathroom with Sleepy, we informed him he should go in his own house. We thought that was the end of it and shut the door. I went back into the kitchen and Doc looked out the window to make sure he got across the street alright.

"What the...?! He's peeing in front of our house!" exclaims Doc just seconds later. He swings around and grabs his head while I stood there in shock holding the spatula in mid-air. I remembered a time when my own boys thought of doing the same thing, although I stopped them just in time. I dryly replied, "Well, it IS what boys do."

Yesterday, I went to the doorbell and took off the cover. I was actually trying to find a way to disable it.

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