Camilla allows her new neighbor, Claire, to use her barbecue… until she goes home to a backyard disaster. When Camilla asks for basic respect, her neighbor demands that she follow her rules. But when Camilla discloses the truth online, the consequences are considerably worse than anyone anticipated. Some lessons can only be learned the hard way.
When my new neighbor, Claire, came in six months ago, I assumed she was normal. Like a woman who would keep in her lane and not disrupt the neighborhood too much.
She was in her forties, lived with her 16-year-old son, Adam, and initially appeared relaxed.
One weekend, my husband, David, and I took the kids to see my parents.
“We can have a date night while your parents take over with Grandma and Grandpa duty,” David said, packing snacks for the two-hour drive.
I had to admit, I was ready to get out of town for a while. I had been feeling restless, and I just wanted a change of scenery before I started to feel suffocated.
We were gone for two days.
And when we got back?
My god.
Our backyard looked like it had been through a frat house BBQ apocalypse.
The patio was littered with empty beer bottles, my potted plants were turned upside down, and the children’s toys were scattered everywhere. Grease smears blanketed the deck. Our once-beautiful grill station appeared to have barely escaped an explosion.
My eye twitched as I stood there, staring at the carnage.
Deep breaths, Camilla, I told myself. Maybe there’s an actual explanation for this.
So, I went next door and knocked. Claire answered, still in pajamas, looking completely unbothered.
“Oh, yeah,” she said, laughing. “That was Adam’s birthday party. You know kids, right? It’s just what they do.”
I blinked. My brain felt like it was ticking away.
Is that just what children do? Was she mad? Didn’t she notice the mess? What the hell!
“Claire, my backyard is not a public park.” “You could have at least cleaned up.”
“Oh, don’t be so uptight, Camilla,” she remarked, shrugging. “It’s only a small mess. You will get over it. Surely you and your hubby know how to use a hose? “A little water will clear that up.”
I could have thrown something at her.
Oh, I’ll get over it? Um, sure.
I went back to my home, trying to figure out what to do. I could be reasonable, or I could be erratic and make Claire pay.
“What’s that look on your face?” David asked as I walked into the kitchen. “Found the culprit?”
“It was Adam’s birthday party. Apparently, that’s how he spent it.”
“Isn’t he, like, sixteen?” David asked, making me a cup of tea.
“Something like that,” I said, getting the jar of biscuits. “Oh my goodness. Underage drinking! There are so many beer bottles out there.”
David looked at me and laughed.
“Every kid does it at least once, Cami,” he said. “But, I mean… you could use that as leverage, right? To scare the kid?”
I nodded.
“But I want Claire to feel something, too. She told me that we could just hose down the mess and that I’d get over it.”
We had our tea in silence while I tried to figure out what to do.
Okay, Cami, I thought. Let’s try being reasonable first.
I grabbed a notepad and wrote down three simple rules:
- If you use something, clean it and put it back.
- Respect my property.
- Clean up after your child.
The next morning, I went over to Claire and handed it to her. I expected a mature response. But what I got in return was anything but.
The next day, I woke up to a list of her rules taped to my front door.
It was not a joke. It was Claire’s rules. For my property. My property.
I nearly choked on my coffee as I read the note.
Dear Neighbors!
To keep things fair and neighborly, I’ve put together some simple rules:
Please follow these to avoid any issues.
- No grilling past 7 PM. The smell keeps me awake.
- No spicy seasonings when you’re cooking. My son doesn’t like the smell.
- If I’m using the grill, please stay out of the yard. It is distracting, and I don’t like when strangers watch me cook.
- Notify me before grilling so I know who’s using it. Schedules are key.
- Your garden hose is for community use. I may need it for washing my car and watering my garden.
- Patio furniture is for everyone!
- When you mow your side of the lawn, do mine too. It looks so much better that way.
- Be patient if my son leaves trash in your yard. Kids will be kids, and it’s not a big deal!
- Sometimes I need extra parking space. I might use your driveway when needed.
- Also, if you ever have concerns about these rules, feel free to discuss them with me. But please remember, I know what’s best for our community!
I’m looking forward to a harmonious neighborhood!
I read it again to make sure my eyes weren’t tricking me.
This woman truly believed she had just invaded my garden as her personal empire. Then my eldest child, Olivia, dashed up, phone in hand.
“Mom, you need to see this,” she said. She showed me a video.
Claire’s son, Adam, had been posting TikTok videos.
From our backyard!
In the clips, he and his friends laughed about using our space like it was their personal hangout. And then they trashed the place on camera.
Oh. Oh.
I grabbed my phone immediately.
I walked to my backyard and filmed everything. And then I posted it on my socials.
As for the caption?
Glad my neighbor and her kid enjoy my backyard more than I do! Check out the rules she gave me!
Within three days, the video had 5 million views, with people sharing it like wildfire.
People flooded the comments:
Excuse me? Her rules?! For YOUR house?!
No way, put up a fence ASAP. These people are insane.
What game is she playing?
Tell me you have an entitled neighbor without telling me you have an entitled neighbor.
Then someone offered to help.
A man in the comments said that he specialized in building chain-link fences. By the end of the week, my backyard was sealed tighter than Fort Knox.
There were no more:
Oops, my son and his friends needed a place to hang out!
I just needed to wash my car real quick, Camilla.
If Claire wanted access to my space… too bad, because she wasn’t getting it. And she noticed the fence immediately.
She stormed over, holding a wooden spoon, and pounded on my door.
“You’re breaking my rules!” she screeched. “Goddammit!”
I smiled sweetly.
“What’s with the spoon?” I asked. “What have you been baking?”
She looked at me like I was mad.
“I said that you’re breaking my rules, Camilla!”
“Oh, sorry,” I said, my voice dripping with fake innocence. “I just thought since we had different house rules, it was best we keep things separate.”
Two days later, there was a knock on the door around dinnertime.
Not Claire.
Adam.
The 16-year-old appeared quite unhappy.
“Ma’am, please,” he mumbled. “Please… you’re ruining my life.”
“What do you mean?” I inquired.
“Those videos that you made,” he grumbled. “Now I’m having difficulties at school because of you! At first, I assumed everything was fine and that no one would notice. But then they realized it was me. “And now they won’t let me forget it.”
Oh, so he outed himself and was angry about it?
I tilted my head.
The night air was cooler than usual, and the quiet hum of the neighborhood felt almost… peaceful.
Claire.
She was leaning against the side of her house, a cigarette dangling between her fingers. But then she exhaled softly and tilted her head towards me.
“You win,” she said quietly, her voice husky.
“Excuse me?” I inquired.
She took another suck on her cigarette and laughed quietly to herself.
“You heard me, Camilla,” she stated, waving her cigarette in the air. “You’ve won. Congratulations. You should see what others are saying about me…”
I glanced at her, attempting to comprehend her tone. It was not a mockery. It was not even angry. It was simply… weary.
Defeated.
“Adam ruined his own life,” I stated bluntly. “I did not push him to have a party in my yard. I did not push him to make videos bragging about it. And I certainly didn’t push you to act as if my backyard was yours.”
Her nostrils flared, but she did not dispute.
For once.
She sighed again and looked out at the shadowy street.
“Do you know how hard it is to raise a teenage boy alone?”
I blinked slowly. That was… unexpected.
I remained mute.
She laughed without amusement and shook her head.
“Adam doesn’t have a dad,” she explained. “Never have. It’s just us. I tried to give him a good life. “But…” she shrugged. “Kids are kids, right?” “He made a stupid mistake.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“Claire, this wasn’t just a stupid mistake.”
“I’m serious, Claire. You handed me rules for my own home. You let your youngster treat my property as if it were his playground. And when I pleaded for basic respect, you laughed at me.
She simply stared at me.
“I could have taken legal action. I could have pressed charges. I could have gone to the police. I had enough proof. But I didn’t. I’m not a bad person, Claire. I just don’t like being walked over.”
For the first time since we met, she appeared little. She turned away and flicked the ash from her cigarette.
“Yeah,” she mumbled. “I get that now.”
I gave her a brief glance, allowing the moment to pass between us.
Then I nodded.
“Good.”
And with that, I turned to walk back inside, leaving Claire in the dark.
