When I politely asked my neighbor to stop sunbathing in bikinis right outside my teenage son’s window, she retaliated by placing a disgusting toilet on my lawn with a sign: “FLUSH YOUR OPINION HERE!” I was furious, but karma had a plan.
When Shannon moved next door and instantly painted her house purple, then orange, and then blue, I should’ve realized trouble was coming. But I’m all about living and letting live. However, one month ago she began hosting bikini sunbathing events right outside my 15-year-old son Jake’s window.
“Mom!” Jake yelled from the kitchen one morning, his face redder than the tomatoes I was chopping for lunch. “Can you… um… do something about that? Outside my window?”
I went to his room and looked out the window. There was Shannon lounging on a leopard-print chair wearing the tiniest bikinis that could be called dental floss with sparkles.
“Just keep your blinds shut, honey,” I replied.
“But I can’t even open them for fresh air anymore!” Jake slumped against his bed.
I sighed as I closed the blinds. “Has she been out there like this every day?”
“Every. Single. Day! Mom, I’m dy:ing! It’s like living in a cave now! Do we have Wi-Fi down there?”
After watching my son practically parkour around his room to avoid seeing our exhibitionist neighbor for a week, I decided it was time for a friendly chat with Shannon.
“Hey Shannon,” I called out trying to sound both friendly and concerned at once. “Got a minute?”
“Renee! Need some tanning oil? This coconut one is amazing; it makes you smell like vacation and bad choices.”
“I actually wanted to discuss your sunbathing spot.”
“Oh. My. God.”
“You’re seriously trying to control where I can get vitamin D? In MY yard?”
“Listen sweetie,”
“Shannon please! Can you just move your chair anywhere else in your yard? You have two acres!”
“Hmmm.”
“Oh look at that! My schedule is full of not caring about your opinion until… forever.”
Two days later when grabbing the newspaper from outside, something stopped me dead in my tracks.
There it was—an old filthy toilet bowl sitting proudly on my well-kept lawn with a handwritten sign saying: “FLUSH YOUR OPINION HERE!”
I knew this had Shannon written all over it
“What do you think of my art installation?” her voice floated over from her yard.
“I call it ‘Modern Suburban Discourse.’ The local art gallery wants to feature it in their ‘Found Objects’ show!” she laughed.
“You must be joking!”
“This is vandalism!”
“No dearie; this is self-expression—just like how I’m sunbathing here too! Since you shared opinions about what people do on their property, thought I’d give you an appropriate place for yours.”
And oh boy did things take an unexpected turn.
It was Saturday; while baking cookies when sirens blared outside caught me off guard—I stepped onto the porch just as fire trucks screeched up in front of our house!
“Ma’am,” an officer said,
“We got reports of sewage leaking?”
Shannon appeared looking concerned enough for an Oscar before I’d even responded!
“Yes officer! That toilet over there… it’s dangerous! I’ve seen terrible things leaking everywhere… Think of the children!”
With that drama done though karma wasn’t finished with Shannon yet—not by far!
The fire truck incident barely slowed her down if anything motivated her more!
Our neighbor Mrs.Peterson dropped her gardening tools shocked saying “Good Lord! Are you recreating Baywatch? Because you’ve missed everything!”
Shannon came up covered in mud; her designer bikini now stained with grass marks along with what seemed like surprised earthworm!
Afterward though she became quiet as could be—she stopped sunbathing near Jake’s window & that dirty toilet vanished faster than magic trick rabbit!
Finally Shannon put up privacy fence around backyard ending our long suburban nightmare.
