So, Tim had arranged for the son of one of his swim-buddies to come and move some dirt around in our backyard last Saturday. This was to happen while Tim was at swim early in the morning. I knew about the arrangement, but Wylie did not.
Early Saturday, I came downstairs to go out for my run. Wylie was already up watching some television. He looks at me--not particularly scared or bothered--and warns:
"Mom, there's a guy in our backyard".
Me: "Well, how do you know?"
Wylie: "I saw him. He's got a shovel. Mom, I think he's a...a dirt burglar".
Me: (suppressing laughter) "Really. A dirt burglar. Why do you think that?"
Wylie: "Well, he's got that shovel and he's digging up dirt and putting it into a bucket and carrying it around the corner...."
Now, I don't know about you, but I've never met, nor read, nor imagined dirt burglary...but, in these days and times, you never know. Still, in the mind of a 10 year old Aspergery-boy, it makes perfect sense.