CHILD SERVICES ARE COMING!

Nine years or so ago, I had a nice little house in Battle Ground. It was a nice development with alot of new, young homeowners. A couple of the neighbors quickly prettied up their houses and sold them. These houses were bought by older couples looking to make a buck. These owners rented their homes. These renters were sketchy.
One of the renters had ugly beat up cars, three kids and two dogs. When I would walk into my back yard, I could smell the dog shit from their yard. One day I awoke to their kids yelling and playing in their back yard. I use the term "playing" loosely. I could tell from the yelling that the two oldest kids were holding down the youngest. After 5 minutes of yelling, the youngest began yelling above the older two. "Stop it...stop it...DON'T PEE ON ME...AGGHHHH!
It's these neighbors this story is about.
I was home alone one Tuesday and there was a knock at the door. I answered and there was a well dressed, very uptight/upset woman standing before me. "Are you Mr. Towers?" she asked.
"Yes"
"My name is Mrs Smith and I work with child protective services. I have a report here stating that you have been neglecting your son. I would like to discuss this issue with you," she said.
Those were a combination of words I had never expected hear! At least not so soon!
She began to tell me that my son was riding his bike about 4 blocks away, on the main street through town. "That street is very busy. Too busy for a child of 6 years of age."
I was scared and dumbfounded.
She reported to me that my son was picked up by an elderly woman. The woman asked if she could give my son a ride home and he said yes. She drove him home and asked his name, my name and would he point to the house he lived in. Which he did. "Is your son, Dylan, at home?"
"You mean is Sterling at home."
Then I had a moment of clarity.
"My sons' name is Sterling and he isn't six," I said. "He's only four."
Mrs. Smith had a puzzled look on her uptight face.
"Sterling doesn't have a bike. He doesn't even know how to ride one." I said.
"Is there a Dylan that lives near here?" she asked.
"Yup. He lives next door."
At that she proceeded to stomp to the neighbors house.
"Ask Dylan if his brothers have ever peed on him in the back yard," I yelled at her.
She nodded and her pace quickened.