By two in the morning, the SUV sat slightly lower.
By four, the tires had sunk several inches.
At six, I woke to the sound of an engine.
I pulled on a robe and went to the front window.
Sheldon was inside the SUV, trying to drive out.
The front tires spun.
Mud sprayed behind them.
The vehicle moved less than a foot before sinking deeper.
He stopped, got out, and stared at the wheels.
Then he looked toward my house.
I made coffee.
Five minutes later, someone pounded on my door.
I let Sheldon knock twice more before opening it.
His face was red.
"What did you do?"
I looked past him.
"Good morning."
"You flooded the lawn."
"I watered my grass."
"You trapped my car."
"No, Sheldon. You parked your car on wet soil."
"You did this on purpose."
I leaned against the doorframe the same way he had the day before.
"Relax. It's just a car."
His mouth opened, and no words came out.
The line hit him exactly the way I hoped it would.
Then he pointed toward the lawn.
"You caused this."
"I have video of you driving onto my property. I also have photos of the damage before the sprinklers ran."
His face changed.
