On Sunday evening, Aitch’s “best friend” from preschool stopped by with his mother to see if we wanted to go for a walk to the nearby school playground. We did, and after spending a half-hour exploring the joys of the swings, the slide, and especially the water fountain, we walked home by way of the pond.

The kids threw a few stones into the water, which attracted a family of ducks, who thought we were throwing food. I had some dog biscuits in my pocket, so we broke them into tiny pieces and fed them to the cute little ducklings. We said hi to the city councilor for our ward, who was out walking his dog around the pond.

As I’ve mentioned before, the pond is an old kettle hole, so the surface sits well below street level. On our way home we climbed the stairs to reach the street just in time to see a police car pull up. One of Port City’s finest got out and hurried down the stairs, and we stopped, curious to see what nefarious crime was taking place right in our midst.

About halfway down the stairs, he spotted the city councilor, and they exchanged a few words. Then he came back up the stairs.

“Is something going on?” I asked him.

“Well…” he said. “Someone complained that you were throwing stones at the ducks. We have to respond to everything.”

Let’s get this straight: Someone called the police to neutralize the menace posed by a COUPLE OF THREE-YEAR-OLDS SKIMMING STONES.

My kid’s not even out of preschool, and he’s already appearing in the police blotter.