Mr. Wilson

I am NOT Mr. Wilson.  That doesn't stop Dennis the Menace from visiting my house on a regular basis.

Sometimes the seven year old shows up as I pull into the driveway.  Was he really just sitting in my driveway waiting for me?

The latest episode took place at dinner time.  Dennis was walking up the driveway as we ate.  I turned around and told him through the window that we were eating and would not be able to play right now.  He seemed to understand, walked down the driveway and picked up his scooter laying near the road.

He rode to the neighbors driveway and toward his house.  Then he turned around and came back to my house.  Dennis was again coming up the driveway.  This time I let him make it to the door.  At most, three minutes had passed since I talked with him.

I met him at the door and he started to open the storm door.  I held it shut as I talked to him.  "Can I come in and play?", he asked.

"Dennis, I told you three minutes ago that we are eating dinner.  Remember?"

He stared at me blankly.  It was like he couldn't believe dinner takes longer than three minutes.  I repeated that we would not be playing.  He said goodbye and walked back down to his scooter.

I went back to my dinner and my kids were staring at me.  "What?", I asked.
Meredith giggled and pointed to the windows behind me.  Dennis hardly set a foot on the road before turning back toward my house.  Seriously! I wasn't going to allow him back to the door this time.  I spoke to him through the opened window.

This time he got on his scooter and headed home.

After all of this hassling would you believe that my kids finished dinner within ten minutes and begged to go ride scooters with Dennis?  All my hard work of chasing the boy away undone in an instant.

Tomorrow I fight the fight again.  I'm not sure how Mr. Wilson survived it.