Camilla lets her new neighbor, Claire, use her grill… until she returns home to a backyard disaster. When she asks for basic respect, her neighbor demands that Camilla follow her rules. But when Camilla exposes the truth online, the fallout is far worse than anyone expected. Some lessons are only learned the hard way.
When my new neighbor, Claire, moved in six months ago, I thought she was normal—just a woman who would stay in her lane and not disturb the neighborhood too much.
She was in her 40s, lived with her 16-year-old son, Adam, and at first, she seemed chill. Friendly, even. I lent her a ladder, a garden hose, and even let her use our outdoor grill station when we weren’t home.
I didn’t think much of it. It’s just being neighborly, right?
Wrong.
One weekend, my husband, David, and I took the kids to visit 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’d 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 survived a frat house BBQ apocalypse.
There were empty beer bottles littering the patio, my potted plants were turned upside down, and the kids’ toys were thrown everywhere. Grease stains covered the deck. Our once-beautiful grill station looked like it had barely survived an explosion.
I stood there, staring at the mess, my eye twitching.
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.
That’s just what kids do? Was she mad? Didn’t she see the mess? What the hell?!
“My backyard isn’t a public park, Claire. You could’ve at least cleaned up.”
“Oh, don’t be so uptight, Camilla,” she said, shrugging. “It’s just a little mess. You’ll get over it. Surely, you and your husband can use a hose? A little bit of 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 house, 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. That’s how he spent it.”
“Isn’t he, like, sixteen?” David asked, making me a cup of tea.
“Something like that,” I said, grabbing 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 rulebook—for my property.
I nearly choked on my coffee as I read the note…
I nearly choked on my coffee as I read the note:
CLAIRE’S RULES FOR THE NEIGHBORHOOD (AND YOU, CAMILLA!)
- Don’t knock before 10 a.m. I’m not a morning person.
- If Adam wants to hang out in your yard, let him. He’s a teenager, not a criminal.
- Don’t police what we do with your stuff. If you leave it out, it’s fair game.
- Relax—it’s just a yard, not Buckingham Palace.
My hands trembled as I held the list. I read it twice. Then a third time. I honestly couldn’t believe the level of delusion.
I walked into the kitchen and slapped the paper down on the counter.
David looked up from his laptop. “What’s that?”
I didn’t answer. I just pointed. He picked it up and read it, his eyebrows slowly climbing into his hairline.
“She’s kidding, right?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Do you think she looks like someone who jokes?”
David sighed. “Okay. You tried being nice. What now?”
“I go public.”
He blinked. “Public?”
“I’m done playing polite. She disrespected us, trashed our property, then had the audacity to write rules for us. Time for the neighborhood Facebook group to meet the real Claire.”
I snapped a few photos: the wrecked grill, the greasy deck, the beer bottles, Claire’s handwritten ‘rules.’ Then I typed:
To my fellow neighbors:
I welcomed Claire and her son when they moved in. I lent her tools, gave her access to our backyard grill, and treated her with respect.
This weekend, while we were visiting my parents, she hosted a party in our backyard without permission.
We came home to destruction—empty bottles, damaged plants, grease everywhere. And when I asked for basic respect, she gave me this list of rules for my property.
I just want everyone to be aware of who we’re dealing with. I hope this serves as a cautionary tale.
I hit post.
Within minutes, the comments started flooding in.
Neighbor #1: “OMG! She did the same thing to us when she borrowed our fire pit and never returned it!”
Neighbor #2: “Claire’s son broke our garden lights last week. She said it was ‘just kids being kids.’”
Neighbor #3: “She told me you gave her that grill! What a liar!”
By noon, the post had over 70 comments and counting.
The next morning, Claire stormed up to our door.
“You had no right posting that!” she yelled. “You made me and Adam look terrible!”
“No,” I said calmly. “You made yourself look terrible. I just showed people what happened.”
She started shouting, something about slander, but David appeared behind me and said, “Keep yelling, Claire, and we’ll press charges for trespassing, underage drinking, and property damage. We have photos, posts, and multiple witnesses.”
She turned red, huffed, and stomped back to her house.
That weekend, a “For Rent” sign went up in her yard.
By the end of the month, she was gone.
And the best part?
A new couple moved in. Super respectful. One of them’s a professional chef.
They asked before using our grill—and brought steaks to share.
Some neighbors need a welcome basket. Others?
A public reality check.
