After a week of sun and sand, Catherine was shocked to discover her new neighbor Jeffrey had built an imposing fence on her property. As a single mom, she couldn’t let this slide. What did she do to teach him a lesson he’d never forget?
Life as a single mom isn’t easy, but I’ve been making it work. I’m Catherine, 40 years old, and I’ve been raising my two boys, Liam (10) and Chris (8), all by myself for the past year.
Their father and I parted ways when I caught him cheating with another woman. Well, that’s a story for another time.
About two months ago, I bought a new house and moved in with my kids. It’s in a peaceful neighborhood with a beautiful forest nearby.
Everything about our new neighborhood seemed perfect until I met my next-door neighbor, Jeffrey. We had been at odds since the beginning.
I’ll never forget our first interaction.
It had been a day since we moved in when I heard a knock at my door. I opened it and saw him standing at my doorstep with a folder in his hand.
“Hello there, neighbor!” he said, extending his hand. “I’m Jeffrey. Welcome to the neighborhood!”
I shook his hand.
How nice! I thought. If only I knew what was coming in the days ahead.
“I wanted to discuss something important with you,” he continued, opening his folder.
“The previous owners signed this contract allowing me to build a fence on the property line.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Okay…?”
“So, I’ll be starting construction next week,” he said matter-of-factly.
I was stunned. “Excuse me? You’re not even asking for my permission?”
“Well, I have the contract right here—”
“That contract was with the previous owners,” I interrupted. “I’m the owner now, and I don’t want a fence blocking my view and sunlight.”
That’s when his face turned red.
“But I need this fence for privacy!” he yelled. “I’ve been planning this for months!”
“Why should I care about what the FORMER owner said?” I asked, but I never got a straight answer.
I just saw Jeffrey stomp out of my house.
Since that day, he’s been arguing with me almost every week about this fence. Apparently, he wants to host fancy garden parties without his guests seeing into my yard.
Well, excuse me for existing!
I couldn’t let him build that fence. I didn’t buy this house to stare at wooden planks instead of the beautiful sky and trees.
Little did I know, things were about to get much worse.
A few weeks ago, I decided to take my boys on a much-needed vacation. Liam and Chris were bouncing off the walls with excitement.
“Mom, can we go to the beach?” Liam asked.
Chris chimed in, “Yeah! And can we build a huge sandcastle?”
“Of course, boys!” I said as I hugged them. “We’ll do all that and more!”
We left for a week, looking forward to sun, sand, and relaxation. If only I’d known what was waiting for us when we got back.
As we pulled into our driveway, I noticed something odd. My heart sank as I realized what had happened.
“Boys, stay in the car for a minute,” I said as I got out.
My blood boiled with each step I took toward our house.
As I peeked to the right, I realized what had happened. There, right in front of our windows, stood a tall wooden fence. On our property. One foot from my windows!
“What the hell?!” I shouted, not caring who heard me.
Liam and Chris came running up behind me.
“Mom, what’s wrong?” Chris asked in a worried voice.
I took a deep breath. I had to stay calm for their sake. “Nothing, sweetie. Just a little… surprise from our neighbor.”
“But Mom,” Liam said, frowning, “we can’t see the trees anymore.”
My heart broke.
Jeffrey’s stupid fence had replaced the beautiful view from our windows that my boys loved so much. Now, we couldn’t even see the sky!
I couldn’t let this slide. I had to teach Jeffrey a lesson.
I had two options. Either take the legal route and wait for the authorities to take action or take matters into my own hands.
I chose the second one because my boys and I didn’t have enough time to take the legal route.
Later that night, I went to the pet store. I had a plan that I knew would work.
“Can I help you find anything?” the clerk asked.
I smiled sweetly. “Yes, I’m looking for an animal attractant spray. The strongest you have.”
After returning home, I waited until the neighborhood was asleep. Then, I went up to his precious fence and poured an entire bottle of the attractant liquid.
The pheromone scent was strong. It was designed to attract dogs for training purposes. But I had a feeling it might attract more than just dogs.
I did this for several nights in a row, ensuring the solution covered every inch of the fence.
Then, I waited.
It didn’t take long for results to show.
One night, as I was taking out the trash, I saw a stray dog lift its leg against the fence. I had to stifle a laugh.
“Good boy,” I whispered.
Over the next few days, more and more animals started visiting the fence. Foxes, raccoons, even a moose once! They all seemed to think Jeffrey’s fence was the perfect place to do their business.
I watched from my window as Jeffrey discovered the mess one morning. His face turned an impressive shade of purple as he realized what was happening.
But to my surprise, he didn’t take down the fence.
He started cleaning it.
Every morning, Jeffrey would come out with a bucket and scrub brush, muttering under his breath as he cleaned off the nightly deposits.
But no matter how much he cleaned, he couldn’t get rid of the pheromone scent. The animals kept coming back, night after night.
Soon, the smell became unbearable. Even my boys started to notice.
“Mom,” Chris said one day, holding his nose, “it stinks outside!”
Liam nodded in agreement. “Yeah, can we play inside today?”
“I know it smells bad, boys,” I said. “Just give it a few more days, okay?”
They nodded, but I could see they were disappointed. I hoped my plan would work soon.
The next day, I was coming back from a grocery run when I saw one of our other neighbors, Mrs. Thompson, knocking on Jeffrey’s door.
I slowed down, pretending to check my mail as I eavesdropped.
“Jeffrey,” Mrs. Thompson began, “what on earth is that smell coming from your yard? It’s awful!”
Jeffrey seemed so embarrassed.
“I… I’m working on it, Mrs. Thompson. There’s been a bit of an animal problem.”
“Well, work faster!” she snapped. “It’s affecting the whole neighborhood!”
As Mrs. Thompson stormed off, Jeffrey caught my eye. He had this apologetic look on his face that I had never seen before. I smiled at him and quickly walked into my house.
That evening, I watched from my other window as Jeffrey attacked the fence with every cleaning product known to man.
He scrubbed and sprayed for hours, but the smell lingered. Finally, he threw down his brush in defeat and trudged back to his house.
The next morning, I was awakened by a loud noise outside. I peeked through my curtains and had to blink a few times to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.
I could see Jeffrey overseeing a team of workers as they took down the fence.
I couldn’t believe my plan had actually worked!
I woke up the boys with the good news. “Liam! Chris! Come look outside!”
They raced to the window, their eyes widening as they saw the fence coming down.
“Mom, we can see the trees again!” Chris exclaimed.
Liam hugged me tight. “You’re the best, Mom!”
And with that, our view was restored, and Jeffrey had learned his lesson. However, the story doesn’t end there.
Later that day, Jeffrey approached me while I was gardening in the front yard.
“Catherine,” he started, clearing his throat, “I, uh… I want to apologize.”
“Oh?” I pretended to act surprised.
He nodded. “I shouldn’t have put up that fence without your permission. It was wrong of me.”
“Yes, it was,” I agreed, crossing my arms.
“I’ve learned my lesson,” he continued. “From now on, I’ll respect your property and your rights as a neighbor.”
“Apology accepted, Jeffrey,” I smiled. “Let’s start over, shall we?”
“I’d like that.”
As Jeffrey walked away, I couldn’t help but feel proud. I had stood up for myself and my boys, and in the end, everything worked out.
That incident taught me that life sometimes puts you in situations where you have to get creative to find a solution, just like I had to come up with a plan to teach Jeffrey a lesson he’ll never forget.
Do you think I did the right thing?
MY HUSBAND SPENT OUR FAMILY’S SAVINGS FOR A CAR ON A PARIS TRIP FOR HIS MOM — SO I TAUGHT HIM A LESSON ABOUT FINANCES.
The weight of the betrayal settled in my stomach like a cold stone. Three years. Three years of sacrifice, of pinching pennies and foregoing simple pleasures, all for a car that would keep our family safe. And he’d squandered it. On a whim. On a trip to Paris for his mother.
David, bless his oblivious heart, seemed genuinely surprised by my reaction. He’d always been a mama’s boy, and I’d tolerated it, even indulged it, to a point. But this? This was beyond the pale.
“It’s my money too!” he’d protested, his voice rising in that familiar defensive tone. “She deserves it! You can’t put a price on gratitude.”
I’d simply stared at him, my mind reeling. Gratitude? What about gratitude for the sacrifices I’d made, for the countless hours I’d spent juggling work, kids, and household chores? What about gratitude for the safety of our children?
I knew arguing would be futile. He was locked in his own world of justifications, and I wasn’t about to waste my breath. Instead, I retreated, a quiet fury simmering beneath my composed exterior.
Over the next few days, I played the part of the understanding wife. I smiled, nodded, and even helped him pack his mother’s suitcase. I listened patiently as he recounted his mother’s excited phone calls, her plans for sightseeing and shopping.
But beneath the surface, I was plotting. I was determined to teach him a lesson about finances, about responsibility, about the true meaning of family.
First, I contacted his mother. I explained the situation, the crumbling van, the precarious state of our family finances. She was mortified. She’d always been a sensible woman, and she was appalled by her son’s impulsive decision. She offered to pay for the trip herself, but I declined. Instead, I suggested a compromise. She could still go to Paris, but for a shorter period, a weekend getaway rather than a full week. The difference in cost would be returned to our car fund.
Next, I tackled the issue of David’s “my money too” argument. I opened a joint account, separate from our everyday expenses, and deposited the remaining car fund, along with the money his mother had returned. I then created a detailed budget, outlining our household expenses, including the cost of a new (used) car. I presented it to David, highlighting the glaring discrepancy between our needs and his impulsive spending.
I also introduced him to the concept of “family meetings.” Every Sunday, we would sit down together, discuss our finances, and make joint decisions about spending. The kids were included, too, learning about the value of money and the importance of saving.
Finally, I decided to address the issue of his mother’s constant demands. I didn’t want to create a rift between them, but I needed to establish boundaries. I suggested that we set aside a small portion of our budget for gifts and experiences for both our families, to be agreed upon by both of us.
The changes weren’t immediate. David grumbled about the budget, about the “unnecessary” family meetings. But slowly, he began to understand. He started to appreciate the sacrifices I’d made, the careful planning that kept our family afloat. He even started to enjoy the family meetings, seeing them as an opportunity to connect with the kids and make joint decisions.
The day we drove our newly purchased (used) car home, David looked at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of regret and gratitude. “Thank you,” he said, his voice sincere. “For teaching me.”
I smiled. “We’re a team, David,” I said. “And teams work together.”
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