Initially, he did not bother me much. He is just a child, right?
But one day I go home and there is a shovel in my flower bed and half a mulch. When I asked him about what happened, he said he was digging a “secret tunnel”. Once again, I caught his hands in dirt, and told me that he was building a trench for his knights.
I decided to talk to his mother. She was the first real conversation with her. I barely looked at her phone and just laughed. “Oh, he only uses his imagination,” she said. “We are trying not to limit it.”
They have their own arena, which can determine his imagination there.
But I did not say anything and decided to let him slip. The next day, there were muddy feet all over the grass that I just planted, and one of my solar lights was broken. Obviously, I knew who was the perpetrator, and frankly it was the last straw.
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