So, about six months ago, a new neighbor moved in — a woman (40) with her son (16). At first, she seemed chill. I even lent her some household stuff and let her use my outdoor grill station when we weren’t home. No big deal, right?
Wrong.
One weekend, me, my husband, and our kids went to visit my parents. We came back, and boom — MY BACKYARD LOOKED LIKE A FRAT HOUSE HAD JUST HOSTED A BBQ APOCALYPSE. Empty bottles, food scraps, grill left dirty like it had survived a grease explosion. I ask her about it, and she just shrugs, saying it was her son’s birthday, so you know, it’s just kids, it’s what kids do. Apparently, I shouldn’t make a fuss over something so minor. Lady, it’s my backyard, not a public park!
So, I do the reasonable thing. I draft up three simple rules:
- If you use something, clean it and put it back.
- Please, clean up after your child.
- That’s it. Just be respectful.
I hand it to her, thinking we’re all good. THE NEXT DAY, I WAKE UP TO A LIST OF HER RULES TAPED TO MY DOOR.
HER rules. For MY property. Spoiler: I didn’t follow her rules.
In two weeks, her son knocked on my door and pleaded, “Ma’am, please, stop!”
Let me explain.
After she put her ridiculous list of “rules” on my door, I had a moment. You know that deep sigh you take when you realize someone has no concept of boundaries? Yeah. That.
Her rules, by the way, were INSANE. Things like:
- “If the grill is outside, it’s community property. We all share the air, we all share the grill.”
- “If we use your space, you cannot restrict it because that’s not neighborly.”
- “You should provide trash bags if you don’t want a mess. If you don’t, you can’t complain.”
I don’t know what alternate universe she came from, but in this one, my backyard is mine.
So, instead of arguing with her, I took action.
Step one: The Grill Goes Bye-Bye.
That night, I told my husband to help me move the grill into our garage. We locked it up. If she wanted to use “community property,” she could find another sucker to mooch off of.
Step two: The Gate Gets a Lock.
Apparently, her son and his friends had been using our yard as an extended hangout spot, hopping the low fence to get to the grill. Not anymore. I installed a higher gate and put in a sturdy lock.
Step three: A Special Surprise.
Every time her son and his friends played music too loud near our property or left trash by the fence, I did what any petty-but-law-abiding citizen would do — I blasted classical music from my outdoor speakers. LOUD. Nothing like some Beethoven to kill the teenage party vibes.
Fast forward two weeks, and that’s when her son knocked on my door.
“Ma’am, please, stop!” he begged, looking absolutely defeated.
I crossed my arms. “Stop what?”
He groaned. “The music. The speakers. My friends don’t wanna come over anymore. My mom’s mad ’cause she doesn’t have a place to grill.”
“Oh? That’s a shame.” I leaned on the doorframe. “Maybe if you guys had cleaned up after yourselves, we wouldn’t be here.”
“But it was just a party!”
“And this,” I gestured dramatically to my house, “is just my property.”
I wish I could say the mom learned her lesson, but no. She tried to rally some neighbors against me, complaining that I was “creating division” and “being selfish.”
Unfortunately for her, the other neighbors weren’t buying it.
One of them, an older guy down the street, laughed in her face. “Lady, you trashed her yard. She could’ve called the cops on you, and you’re mad she didn’t?”
After that, she kept her distance. Her son never climbed the fence again, and my backyard stayed peaceful.
Moral of the story?
Some people will take advantage of your kindness and call you the bad guy when you set boundaries. Set them anyway.
And if they don’t listen? A little Beethoven never hurt.
If you enjoyed this, drop a like and share! Ever had a neighbor who thought your property was theirs? Tell me your stories in the comments! ⬇️
