We had the police called on us for the second time today (the first was just about two years ago). This time it was Lijah who was running around on the street by himself—our little dead-end street here, the one with five houses on it. Then he went inside. This apparently aroused some concern in a passer-by, who... called the cops? The officer who came by was completely unconcerned; I'm actually not sure he managed to keep from rolling his eyes as he described the reason for his visit. I did feel a little bad that, when he arrived, Harvey and Zion were screaming at each other in frustration after trying to work together to put the hens in. Oh well.
Interestingly, earlier today all three boys had been riding their bikes around the block with a couple friends. But nobody complained about that.