I’m Amy. My boyfriend Zach and I moved into our new house last November. Our neighbors are a single mother, Sarah, and her two boys, Richard and Bill, aged seven and twelve. When we first moved in, Sarah was very kind and friendly, and her boys would sometimes wave at us. But that didn’t last long.
The house and neighborhood are beautiful, but we haven’t had much sunny weather lately. It’s been better recently, though, and we had a few hot days. A couple of weekends ago, Zach and I were enjoying a particularly sunny day sitting in our garden. We could hear Sarah’s kids playing in their yard next door. It didn’t bother us until a stream of water came over the fence and hit me right in the face.
“Zach!” I yelled, wiping the water from my eyes.
Zach looked up, confused. “What happened?”
“Water,” I said, my eyes stinging. “Why is this water coming out of nowhere?”
At that moment, another stream of water shot over the fence and hit our furniture and plants. We rushed to bring our books and the rest of our little picnic inside before everything got soaked.
Since the water was still coming over the fence in intervals, I decided to go upstairs to see what was happening on Sarah’s side. From the window, I saw her two boys with giant water guns, aiming over the fence and spraying our garden.
I rushed back downstairs. “Zach, it’s Richard and Bill with water guns! And they’re still doing it!”
Zach was already by the fence, shouting over, “Richard! Bill! Please stop spraying water into our garden!”
The boys went quiet and disappeared. But not even two minutes later, just as Zach was drying off and heading to the kitchen to get his book, they started again. The water streams were relentless.
I sighed. “This is getting ridiculous.”
Zach nodded. “I’m going to talk to Sarah.”
He went to Sarah’s front door and knocked. After a moment, she answered, looking flustered.
“Hi, Zach,” she said. “Is everything okay?”
“Hey, Sarah,” Zach replied. “The boys are spraying water over the fence into our garden. Can you ask them to stop?”
Sarah furrowed her brow. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I’ll talk to them right away.”
Zach returned to our garden. “She said she’ll talk to them.”
I nodded, hoping that would be the end of it. But a few minutes later, the water guns started again.
“Unbelievable,” I muttered. “They just won’t stop.”
Zach sighed. “Maybe I should talk directly to the boys.”
He went back to the fence and shouted again. “Richard, Bill, please stop spraying water into our garden. This isn’t nice.”
The boys’ voices came back. “But it’s fun!” said Richard.
“We’re just playing!” added Bill.
Zach tried to stay calm. “I get it, but our furniture and plants are getting soaked. Please, find something else to do.”
There was a brief silence. “Okay,” Richard said hesitantly.
We waited and listened. For a moment, it seemed like they had finally stopped. But then another stream of water shot over the fence.
I threw my hands up in frustration. “What do we do now?”
Zach looked thoughtful. “Maybe we need to talk to Sarah again. She seemed understanding before.”
We were both frustrated because the boys kept spraying water over the fence. This time, I went next door and rang the doorbell. Sarah answered, and I told her that her kids were still spraying water over our fence. I thought she would be understanding, as she had been with Zach, but she seemed really offended.
“Amy, you’re overreacting,” she said, crossing her arms. “They’re just kids being kids.”
I tried to explain further, but she interrupted me. “I’ll tell them again to stop, but I’m not going to control my kids while they’re playing. It’s just water, it won’t do any harm.”
I have to admit, I don’t handle confrontations well. I thought she would be friendly, but her response left me speechless. So, I just froze. Sarah waited for a moment, then closed the door behind me, and I went back home.
Zach and I decided to watch a movie instead, but before we closed our back door for the day, I noticed the water had ruined my string lights that were hanging over our garden table. I sighed, left them there, and went inside.
A few days after that confrontation, I decided to invite all the neighbors to a garden party. I told everyone it was a water gun party for the kids but didn’t mention it to Sarah. When Sarah arrived, she was all dressed up, wearing makeup and a cocktail dress. As soon as she stepped into the garden, the kids immediately targeted her and drenched her.
“What on earth?” Sarah gasped, looking around in shock.
“Oh, it’s just water,” I said, trying to hide a grin. “It won’t do any harm. I guess I forgot to tell you to bring dry clothes.”
Sarah looked humiliated and quickly left the party. The kids kept playing, and everyone else seemed to be having fun. I felt a little guilty, but I was relieved the boys weren’t causing trouble anymore.
A few moments later, Sarah returned, now in casual clothes, with a new string of lights in hand. She walked straight over to me.
“Here,” she said, handing me the lights. “It’s so dark here; maybe the kids will see better now who they’re spraying with their water guns.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at how she was handling the situation so casually. “Thanks, Sarah. I appreciate it.”
Sarah nodded and smiled. “Don’t be mad at me, okay? Kids can be a handful, but they don’t mean any harm.”
“Of course,” I said, feeling the tension ease away. “Let’s enjoy the party.”
The rest of the evening went smoothly. The kids played with their water guns, and the adults chatted and laughed. As the sun set and the new string lights twinkled, Sarah and I really got to know each other.
“You know, maybe I overreacted earlier. It’s just hard doing everything on my own.”
“I understand,” I said. “We all have our moments. Honestly, I admire you for raising the boys alone. And they’re good kids.”
She smiled, and we clinked glasses. Her boys were having a blast with their water guns, and Zach and I even got the chance to meet more neighbors.
And to be honest, this is exactly the kind of tight-knit neighborhood we were looking for. And I have two mischievous boys with water guns to thank for that.
How would you have handled it?
