Daniel suddenly comes barreling out, a piece of paper clutched in his hand, shoving it toward Ethan. “Here you go,” he says loudly. “I even used the colors you wanted. But I didn’t use green. I don’t like green.” I eye it—it’s a drawing Daniel was working on yesterday. Oh my god. Is Ethan trading Rice Krispies Treats for pictures my son draws? “Looks amazing,” Ethan says. “I can’t wait to add it to my collection.” Daniel high-fives him and then he’s off, pedaling like mad around the cul-de-sac. “Look at me, Mr. Ethan!” Daniel shouts, and I watch as my dreaded neighbor gives my son a thumbs-up.
