I go out and look at them. "Hello," says the older one weakly.
I don't shout, I keep my tone level. "Are you throwing stones?" I ask.
"Only at this tree," he says- pointing away from our house. A lie (I've been watching from the upstairs window.)
"Well, that's all right then," I say. "Just so long as you're not throwing them at us." I go back inside.
What a nice, friendly man.
They are not the enemy, they are not the enemy, they are not the enemy!