Step 3: Nightfall.
I waited until midnight.
That’s when the show began.
As soon as his motion light triggered, the fog machine filled the yard with a low, creeping mist.
The hidden speaker whispered in a gravelly voice:
“You cannot unearth what was once buried…
…The Gnome King awakens.”
And then—my dog (a very obedient dachshund), dressed in his little gnome outfit, ran laps in his yard, dragging a mini shovel behind him.
The scream he let out?
WORTH. EVERY. SECOND.
The next morning, he was already outside dismantling his “sad gnome army.”
No eye contact. No muttering. Not even a glare.
Just silent defeat.
But between you and me?
I’m already planning the next move.
Because the Gnome War… is far from over.
