Oh, that makes sense.
I had a nice middle-aged lady deputy turn up at my door one morning with my 4-year-old son. “He says his name is Frank, and he lives here!” Frank had a crush on a little girl up the street, and he’d gone looking for her, but couldn’t remember where she lived.
He was knocking on doors (on the wrong side of the street). “Does Maggie live here?”
So how long was Frank in jail for stalking?
As a REAL little kid - perhaps 4 or 5, I would sneak over to the old couple’s house through the hedge in our backyard on Sunday mornings to try to get out of going to church. I think it was pancakes that I really liked at their house!