Some Advice Please...?

Last Thursday, I think, there was a knock at the door. It was a wee laddie with his bike.

"Aye?" I says.

"Sorry tae bother ye Mister, but huv' ye goat a pump fur ma' bike..?" he says with a broad Edinburgh accent.

"Aye, I do! Here, I'll give you a hand."

So I go out, and his front tyre was nearly flat. I take my handily placed bicycle pump and proceed to reinflate his tyre. He was just a wee laddie, ginger hair and quite inquisitive. And really polite.

As I'm pumping the tyre up, he apologises - "Ah'm sorry fur comin' tae yer door, mister", to which I can only say "It's no bother". Well, it's not often you see such politeness from one so young.

So, bike back in order, he's off into the distance with the friendly advice - "Keep an eye on that tyre, it might have a slow puncture..." ringing in the late afternoon air.

At this point, I thought that'd be the end of it. I'd done my good deed for the day.


Couple of days later (Saturday), we're due a delivery of 2 tonnes of stone-chips for the garden, and they duly arrive in the morning. The Wife has arranged the borrowing of a 'borrow, and she arrives with it in the late afternoon.

So, with the garden all covered by the recommended groundcloth stuff, I proceed to shovel these 2 tonnes of chips, transporting to The Wife in the garden via the aforementioned wheelbarrow.

Halfway through this monumental (or just mental?) task, who should show up?

That's right, the wee ginger lad. With questions.

WGL - "What are ye doin', mister?"

TMBTB - "I'm shovelling these stones into the wheelbarrow, and taking them to the garden"

WGL - "Can I help?"

TMBTB - "Sorry, but no, it's too heavy for a wee laddie like you."

At which, he decides to start filling a pail with these stone-chips, and carry them into the garden. Next thing, The Wife has got him collecting the stones that have fallen on the ground (off my shovel!).

"Good!" I'm thinking. "That'll keep him out of trouble, and out of harm's way."

Even when we adjourned for a break, he still wanted to carry on. We had to tell him we were going for our tea before he took the hint. And off he went.

For a while.

Half an hour later, The Wife and I are back at it again, nearly ¾ done now, and from nowhere, he's back again.

As we're finishing off the job, and packing everything up, I hand him a pound coin. He seems really surprised at this, and grasps it tightly.

As he's cycling off, he says "Thanks for the pound, mister!"

"No bother wee man, you earned it!" I reply.

"OK, I'll see you tomorrow then...."

Me and The Wife were left just looking at each other.

And this morning?

The Wife goes to hang up some washing, and there he is. Again asking questions.

She comes back indoors, where I'm nursing stretched and sore muscles, and says "What are we going to do about him?"

Well, what can we do?

10 minutes later, it's raining and she has to go back out and take the washing back in again. He's still there. Asking questions.

He's everywhere, following our every move!

Fucking hell, we're being stalked by a 7-year-old !


So, my question to you all (or both of you, I've been checking my site stats!) is:-

How can we dissuade this charming, polite, inquisitive yet utterly annoying wee pest from haunting our every footstep, without causing alarm or distress?