Returning from a relaxing vacation, 50-year-old Wendy came home to find her beloved lawn buried under a mountain of gravel by her thoughtless neighbor, Tom. When he refused to fix the damage, Wendy orchestrated a brilliant revenge plan that became the talk of the neighborhood.
Alright folks, gather around ’cause you won’t believe what just happened to your favorite 50-year-old lawn lady! I spent the last two weeks in Hawaii, soaking up the sun. I flew back, all excited to get back to my beloved sanctuary, only to be greeted by… a mountain of gravel dumped right in the middle of my precious lawn!
My jaw about hit the floor. It looked like a scene out of a bad construction zone!
My first thought? That darn Tom, my young neighbor with about as much courtesy as a jackrabbit.
See, this guy, he’s got this holier-than-thou attitude and thinks the whole neighborhood revolves around him.
Fuming, I stormed over to his house.
There he was, sprawled on his couch like a king on his throne, a half-eaten bag of chips resting precariously on his belly.
“Tom,” I yelled, “what in the world is this mess doing on my lawn?”
He glanced up, eyes widening for a millisecond before settling back on nonchalance. “Oh, hey Wendy. Back from your little vacation, huh? Fancy seeing you.”
He gestured vaguely towards the window with a chip-dusted finger. “Needed some space for my reno project, you see. Didn’t have anywhere else to put it.”
Reno project? This troublemaker was calling this monstrosity a reno project? My prize-winning lawn, the envy of the entire neighborhood, reduced to a gravel pit?
“Didn’t have anywhere else to put it?” I retorted. “So you decided to just dump it on my property?”
Tom shrugged, that infuriating nonchalance still plastered across his face. “Look, it’s just some gravel, Wendy. No biggie.”
This was a blatant disrespect for my property and my hard work!
“This isn’t some minor inconvenience,” I shrieked. “You’ve destroyed my lawn! Do you have any idea how much time and effort I’ve put into that grass?”
He finally set the chip bag down, a hint of annoyance flickering in his eyes. “Alright, alright, jeez. Calm down, would ya? It’s not like I did it on purpose.”
“Not on purpose?” I scoffed. “So you just accidentally dumped a mountain of gravel on my lawn while you were sleepwalking?”
Tom opened his mouth to retort, but I cut him off. “Look,” I said, staring him down, “this isn’t over. You’re going to fix this mess, and you’re going to pay for the damage.”
A smug smile played on his lips. “Pay? No way! Good neighbors don’t act like you, Wendy,” he said, leaning back on the couch.
My blood pressure rocketed.
