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My neighbor placed a toilet on my lawn with a sign that said, “Flush your opinion here,” after I requested she stop sunbathing in front of my son’s window.

The New Neighbor and Unwelcome Drama

When Shannon moved in next door, I should have sensed trouble right away. First, she painted her house a garish purple, then switched to orange, and finally settled on a shade of blue that was hard on the eyes. But I’m a live-and-let-live kind of person, so I let it slide. That was, until she started sunbathing in front of my 15-year-old son Jake’s window.

Jake’s Awkward Dilemma

One morning, Jake burst into the kitchen, his face as red as a tomato. “Mom, can you do something about what’s happening outside my window?” he stammered.

Confused, I followed him to his room. Sure enough, there was Shannon, lounging on a leopard-print chair, barely covered in a bikini that was more sequins than fabric.

“Mom, this happens every day! I can’t even open my blinds anymore! Tommy came over to study, and he froze when he saw her. His mom’s probably going to ban him from coming here,” Jake groaned, flopping onto his bed.

I sighed, closed the blinds, and told him, “Keep them shut for now, honey. I’ll handle it.” But I couldn’t help but wonder how long we’d have to endure this situation.

Taking Action

After a week of watching Jake avoid his own room, I decided it was time to talk to Shannon. Normally, I don’t meddle in what people do in their yards, but Shannon’s sunbathing had become a public spectacle. One day, I found her outside and called out, “Hey, Shannon! Can we talk for a minute?”

She lowered her oversized sunglasses and grinned. “Renee! Here to borrow some coconut-scented tanning oil? Makes you smell like a tropical vacation.”

Forcing a smile, I replied, “Actually, it’s about your sunbathing spot. It’s right in front of my son Jake’s window, and he’s 15, so…”

Before I could finish, she cut me off with a wider grin that made me uneasy. “Are you serious? You’re worried about my vitamin D? It’s my yard!”

I tried to explain, suggesting she move her chair, but she waved me off. “Honey, if your son has issues with a confident woman, invest in better blinds or therapy. I know a great life coach.”

With that, she dismissed me, and I walked back inside, shaking my head. I had a bad feeling this wasn’t over. And I was right.

The Toilet Incident

A couple of days later, I opened the front door to grab the newspaper and froze. There, in the middle of my lawn, surrounded by my flowers, was a filthy, rusted toilet. A sign propped on it read, “FLUSH YOUR OPINION HERE!”

I didn’t need a detective to know who was behind this.

“Like my art installation?” Shannon’s voice floated over. “It’s called ‘Modern Suburban Discourse.’ Thought you needed a place for all those opinions!”

Livid, I glared. “This is vandalism!”

“No, it’s self-expression, just like my sunbathing. Now you have a proper place for your complaints,” she shot back.

I stormed inside, determined to stay calm. Shannon thought she’d won, but I knew better. Sometimes, karma handles things for you.

Karma Strikes Back

Over the next few weeks, Shannon ramped up her antics. She hosted loud sunbathing parties, complete with blaring music and scantily clad guests. She even started a chaotic “meditation drum circle” that sounded more like toddlers banging pots. Through it all, I smiled and waved, knowing karma would eventually catch up with her.

Then, one Saturday, it did.

I was washing dishes when I heard a commotion outside. A fire truck pulled up in front of my house. A firefighter approached, looking confused. “Ma’am, we got a report of a sewage leak?”

Before I could respond, Shannon appeared, full of exaggerated concern. “Yes! That toilet on her lawn… it’s disgusting! A health hazard!”

The firefighter raised an eyebrow. “Ma’am, that’s clearly a dry toilet, not a fire department issue.”

Shannon tried to argue, but the firefighter cut her off. “False emergency reports are a crime. Stop wasting our time.”

Her face turned beet red as she stomped off. Karma wasn’t done yet, though.

Shannon’s Final Fall

A few days later, I spotted Shannon dragging her lounger onto her garage roof, determined to avoid any more ‘complaints’ from me. She perched up there, tanning and sipping a massive margarita. But disaster struck. Her sprinkler system malfunctioned, and she slipped, landing face-first in her flowerbed.

Mrs. Peterson, another neighbor, witnessed the whole thing. “Good gracious, Shannon! You trying to be a rooftop lifeguard?” she laughed.

Covered in mud and drenched, Shannon slunk back inside. After that, her sunbathing stopped, and the toilet vanished from my lawn.

Peace at Last

A week later, Jake cautiously peeked out from behind his blinds. “Is it over? Can I stop hiding?”

I smiled. “Yep, looks like Shannon’s show has been canceled for good.”

Jake laughed and sat down for breakfast. “Good. I was getting tired of playing hide and seek in my own room.”

As we shared a quiet morning, I couldn’t help but feel victorious. Shannon had tried to make my life miserable, but karma had taken care of things. Sometimes, the universe knows exactly when to bring someone down a peg.

K

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