MY NEIGHBOR KEPT “ACCIDENTALLY” TAKING MY PACKAGES – SO THIS TIME, I LEFT HER MY CHRISTMAS GIFT ON PURPOSE.
I moved into a new neighborhood, and my neighbor Linda quickly turned into a nightmare.
She first seemed overly sweet, welcoming me with cookies and a big smile, but soon, packages began to disappear.
Linda would return them opened, claiming, “Oh, sweetie, I thought it was mine!”
It was clear she was stealing them.
At first, it was small items like gloves and utensils, but more expensive things like a pair of boots began disappearing.
The final straw came when a limited-edition Christmas ornament for my mom never arrived.
Furious, I checked the tracking, which said it was delivered, and marched to Linda’s door.
Feigning innocence, she brought back the opened package, the ornament unwrapped, and giggled, “I didn’t realize this wasn’t for me!”
Her smug smile pushed me over the edge — I had to stop her.
That was it.
I prepared a Christmas gift with my name on it and put it on the porch.
When I came home, I noticed my package was gone and grinned, my plan WORKED!
The next morning, I woke up to screaming.
I peeked out my window and saw Linda running around and yelling.My heart pounded with a mix of anticipation and nervousness. What had she done? I cautiously opened my front door and stepped onto the porch. Linda was in her front yard, a whirlwind of frantic energy. She was covered in something sparkly and… was that… cheese? The strong, pungent smell of Limburger wafted over to my porch. My grin widened. My “Christmas gift” had been a box filled with the smelliest cheese I could find, liberally coated in industrial-grade glitter.
As I watched, Linda spotted me. Her face, smeared with glitter and cheese residue, contorted with rage. She stomped towards my yard, leaving a shimmering, cheesy trail in her wake.
“YOU!” she shrieked, pointing a glitter-caked finger at me. “What did you DO?!”
I plastered on my most innocent smile. “Good morning, Linda! Everything alright? You seem… sparkly.”
“Sparkly?!” she sputtered, “Sparkly?! You did this! You put this… this… garbage on my porch!”
“Oh, that package?” I feigned surprise. “Yes, I left it out for you. Since you seem to have such a knack for finding my deliveries, I thought I’d save you the trouble. Consider it a Christmas gift… from me to you.”
Linda’s eyes narrowed. “You did this on purpose! You knew I’d take it!”
“Did I?” I raised an eyebrow, trying to look genuinely confused. “Well, Linda, you’ve been so ‘accidentally’ collecting my packages lately, I admit, I wondered if you were expecting a Christmas surprise from me. It seems I was right!”
She crossed her arms, a stubborn glint in her glittery eyes. “I thought it was mine! How was I supposed to know?”
“Linda,” I said, my voice losing its playful edge and turning firm, “We both know that’s not true. Gloves, utensils, boots, a Christmas ornament for my mother – all ‘mistakenly’ yours? Come on.”
She shifted uncomfortably, avoiding my gaze. The cheese smell was becoming overwhelming even from my porch. “Well… sometimes the delivery people mix things up.”
“Sometimes, yes. But every time? And always my packages, Linda? Always opened, and then returned with a flimsy excuse?” I took a step closer. “This isn’t about mixed-up deliveries, Linda. This is about you taking things that don’t belong to you. My things.”
She remained silent for a moment, picking at a piece of cheese stuck to her sweater. Then, she mumbled, “Okay, fine. Maybe… maybe a few times I… I might have… opened something that wasn’t mine.” She wouldn’t meet my eyes.
“A few times?” I repeated, incredulously. “Linda, you’ve opened almost every single package delivered to my porch since I moved in! And you kept the boots! Where are my boots, Linda?”
She sighed dramatically. “They’re… inside. I’ll get them.” She trudged back to her house, leaving a trail of glitter and a lingering cheesy aroma. She returned a few minutes later, holding a slightly scuffed boot box.
“Here,” she said, shoving the box towards me. “Happy now?”
“Happier if this stops, Linda,” I said, taking the box. “I just want my deliveries to arrive safely at my door, like everyone else. I don’t want to set traps or have awkward glitter-cheese confrontations in our front yards.”
She looked down at her glittery, cheesy clothes. A hint of shame flickered across her face. “Fine,” she mumbled, “I’ll… I’ll be more careful.”
“Careful?” I echoed. “Linda, it’s not about being ‘careful’. It’s about respecting boundaries and not taking things that aren’t yours. Please, just… stop opening my packages.”
She nodded, still avoiding eye contact. “Okay, okay, I will. Can I… can I go clean up now?” She gestured to her glitter and cheese-covered self.
“Of course, Linda. And maybe next time, if you’re curious about what’s inside a package, order one for yourself.” I turned and went back inside, carrying my boots and a slightly lighter heart.
Linda never apologized properly, and she never admitted to intentionally stealing. But the screaming, the glitter, the cheese, and the confrontation seemed to have done the trick. My packages started arriving without incident. Occasionally, I’d see her peeking out from her curtains when the delivery truck arrived, but she never “accidentally” collected my packages again. The neighborhood remained… interesting. But at least, my Christmas gifts, and all my other deliveries, finally made it to my door, unopened and cheese-free.