He pressed his face against the kitchen window, his coffee mug trembling in his grip as he watched two blonde heads bobbing in his pool again. “Emma, Tyler, get out of there this instant.” The shrill voice belonged to Karen Morrison, his next door neighbor, who was marching across a pristine lawn in a terryloth robe. Her face flushed with what David had learned to recognize as her signature blend of entitlement and indignation.
David set down his mug and stepped onto his back deck. The morning air was crisp, but his blood was boiling. Karen, this is the fourth time this week. She wled around, her blonde hair whipping across her shoulders. Oh, don’t be so dramatic, David. They’re just kids having fun. When I was their age, when you were their age, you probably asked permission before using someone else’s property.
David’s voice was steady, but his hands were clenched at his sides. 3 months. 3 months of this madness since Karen and her family had moved in next door. Permission. Karen’s laugh was sharp enough to cut glass. It’s a pull, not the crown jewels. Besides, you’re never even home to use it. That’s stunned because it was partially true.
David worked long hours as a software engineer, often not returning home until after dark, but that didn’t give Karen’s eight and 10-year-old children free reign to treat his backyard like their personal water park. Mom, the water’s getting cold. Emma called out, her small hands gripping the pool’s edge. Just a few more minutes, sweetie.
Karen called back. then fixed David with a defiant stare. Look, I get that you’re uptight about your property, but they’re not hurting anything. Kids need to be kids. David had heard this speech before. Usually, he’d retreat inside, wait for them to leave, then spend his evening fishing leaves and grass out of his pool filter.
But something about the way Karen stood there, arms crossed, chin jutted out like she was defending her right to his property, made something snap inside him. Get them out now. Karen’s eyebrows shot up. Excuse me. You heard me. Get your kids out of my pool, off my property, and keep them there. The children had stopped playing, sensing the tension in their mother’s voice and the stranger’s sharp tone.
Tyler, the older boy, started swimming toward the shallow end. You know what? Karen’s voice rose to a pitch that made the neighborhood. Dogs start barking. You’re being completely unreasonable. This is exactly what’s wrong with society today. People like you who can’t share, who think offense makes them king of their little kingdom.
This isn’t about sharing, Karen. This is about trespassing. This is about liability. What happens if one of your kids gets hurt in my pool? What happens if they drown? Karen’s face went pale for just a moment before the color rushed back deeper than before. Are you threatening my children? I’m explaining reality to you. David pulled out his phone.
