My Neighbor Requested My 12-Year-Old Son to Mow Her Lawn, Then Declined to Pay – She Wasn’t Prepared for My Retaliation

Then one day, Ethan came home, sweat dripping from his forehead. His shirt was soaked, and he looked like he’d been running for hours.

“Ethan, what happened?” I asked, walking over to him as he plopped down on the couch.

“Mrs. Johnson asked me to mow her lawn,” he panted. “She said she’d pay me twenty bucks.”

I glanced out the window at Mrs. Johnson’s yard. It was huge, easily the biggest in the neighborhood. Ethan had mowed the entire thing. It looked perfect, lines neat and clean.

“Two days,” Ethan said, wiping his face with his shirt. “It took me two whole days. But she said she’d pay me when I was done.”

I smiled at him, proud. Ethan was a good kid, always looking to help out. He’d been saving up for weeks to buy a food processor for his grandma’s birthday. The twenty dollars would help him get a little closer.

“Did she pay you yet?” I asked, still looking out the window.

“No, but I’m sure she will,” Ethan said, his voice hopeful.

I nodded. Mrs. Johnson might be distant, but stiffing a kid out of twenty bucks? Even she wouldn’t do that. Or so I thought.

A few days passed, and I noticed Ethan was quieter than usual. He wasn’t his usual cheerful self, and it worried me.

“What’s wrong, honey?” I asked one evening as he sat by the window, staring at Mrs. Johnson’s house.

“She hasn’t paid me yet,” he said softly.

I frowned. “Well, have you asked her?”

Ethan nodded. “Yeah, I went over yesterday, but she told me she was busy and to come back later. So I went again today, and she told me… she told me to get lost.”

“What?” I gasped, shocked. “What do you mean ‘get lost’?”

Ethan looked down at his hands, his voice shaking just a little. “She said I should be grateful for the lesson I learned from mowing her lawn. That learning to work hard was the real payment. She said I didn’t need the money.”

My heart dropped, and my anger rose. This woman had tricked my son into doing two days of hard work and then refused to pay him. How dare she?

I clenched my fists, trying to stay calm for his sake, but inside I was boiling. “Don’t worry about it, honey. I’ll take care of it.”

Ethan gave me a small, trusting smile. But inside, I was already planning what I’d do next. Mrs. Johnson might think she was teaching my son a lesson, but she was about to learn one herself.

I sat on the porch the next morning, watching Mrs. Johnson pull out of her driveway, as polished as ever. The decision had been brewing inside me for days, and now, I felt no hesitation.

My son deserved justice, and if Mrs. Johnson wasn’t going to do the right thing, then I’d make sure she learned a lesson of her own. I got to making calls and leaving voice messages.

Around an hour later, my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was Mark, my old friend from high school, who now ran a small landscaping business. I explained the situation in a quick, hushed tone.

“So, you want me to… trim her hedges into weird shapes?” he chuckled on the other end of the line.

Mrs. Johnson took immense pride in her yard, especially her hedges. Every Saturday morning, without fail, she’d be out there, pruning the bushes with meticulous care.

She had them shaped into perfect, symmetrical forms that gave her house a neat, upscale appearance. To her, those hedges weren’t just plants—they were a statement.

“Exactly. Nothing destructive. Just enough to give them a funny look. She’s proud of that yard, and I want her to notice.”

Mark was quiet for a moment, then laughed again. “You’ve got yourself a deal. I’ll swing by later today.”

Step one of the plan was set. Now, for step two. I grabbed my laptop, found a local mulch delivery service, and called them up, doing my best to mimic Mrs. Johnson’s crisp, no-nonsense tone.

“Hi, this is Katherine Johnson. I need three large truckloads of mulch delivered to my address. Yes, the whole driveway. Thank you.”

I hung up, feeling a strange thrill. My heart pounded in my chest. Was I really doing this?

Yes. Yes, I was.

Then, I left a few messages for my neighbors. While asking for small favors, I made sure to casually mention what Mrs. Johnson had done to Ethan.

Later that afternoon, three giant trucks rolled up and began unloading piles of mulch onto Mrs. Johnson’s driveway. I watched from my porch as the workers carefully emptied their loads, blocking her entire driveway with massive mounds of dark brown mulch. There was no way she was getting her car in tonight.

By then, the neighborhood had started to buzz. I saw a few of the neighbors peeking through their windows, whispering to each other. Word had gotten around about what Mrs. Johnson had done to Ethan, and now, they were seeing my revenge unfold right in front of them.

I could feel the tension building. Everyone was waiting for Mrs. Johnson to come home. So was I.

At around 6:30 p.m., her shiny black car turned the corner and pulled onto our street. As soon as she saw the mulch, her car screeched to a halt. She sat there for a moment, probably in shock. Then she slowly rolled forward, coming to a stop in front of the pile blocking her driveway.

I leaned back in my chair, sipping my tea, and waited.

Mrs. Johnson got out of the car, her face a mix of confusion and anger. She marched over to the hedges first, staring at the strange shapes they’d been trimmed into. She ran her hands through her perfectly styled hair and pulled out her phone, probably to call someone to fix it.

A few of the neighbors had gathered across the street, pretending to chat, but really watching her reaction. They exchanged quiet laughs and glances. Mrs. Johnson looked around, realizing she was being watched, and her eyes landed on me.

She stormed across the street, her heels clicking loudly on the pavement.

“Did you do this?” she snapped, her voice tight with rage.

I smiled, taking another sip of my tea. “Me? I don’t know anything about landscaping or mulch deliveries.”

Her face turned bright red. “This is unacceptable! You think this is funny?”

I set down my cup and stood up, meeting her gaze. “Not as funny as stiffing a 12-year-old out of twenty dollars.”

Her mouth opened, but no words came out. She knew exactly what I was talking about.

“Maybe it’s just the universe teaching you a lesson,” I said, my tone sharp. “Hard work is its own reward, right?”

Mrs. Johnson clenched her jaw, her eyes darting from me to the piles of mulch and then back to the small crowd of neighbors now openly watching. She was trapped. She couldn’t argue with me without looking worse in front of the whole street.

“Fine,” she spat, turning on her heel and stomping into her house. A minute later, she reappeared with a crumpled twenty-dollar bill in her hand.

She shoved it at me, but I didn’t take it. “Give it to Ethan,” I said, stepping aside.

She shot me one last glare, then walked over to where Ethan stood at the edge of the yard. “Here,” she muttered, shoving the bill at him.

Ethan took the money, eyes wide with surprise. “Uh, thanks.”

Mrs. Johnson didn’t say another word as she hurried back to her car. She fumbled with her phone, probably trying to call someone to remove the mulch blocking her driveway. But I wasn’t worried about that. My job was done.

Ethan smiled so wide, I thought his face might split in two.

“Thanks, Mom,” he said, beaming.

“Don’t thank me,” I said, ruffling his hair. “You earned it.”

Mrs. Johnson never asked Ethan for help again. And every time she passed the neighbors, I could see the embarrassment in her eyes. Her hedges grew back, and the mulch eventually disappeared, but the story of how she learned a lesson about honesty and hard work stayed with the neighborhood.

Sometimes, the people who seem the most put-together are the ones who need a good reminder that you don’t mess with a mother protecting her son.

My Colleague Came to My Date with Her 3 Kids in Tow & Ruined It – When I Confronted Her, She Boldly Said, ‘You Should Thank Me’

The night had everything I’d planned for: candlelight, wine, and the promise of a deeper connection. But when my colleague burst through the door with her kids in tow, the evening spiraled into a disaster I never expected and a truth I wasn’t prepared for.

The third date with Susan was supposed to be the charm. We’d met on Tinder — her profile was a perfect mix of witty banter and effortless beauty. After two great dates and a dreamy stroll in the park, I was ready to take things to the next level.

Couple on a date during sunset | Source: Pexels

That night, I picked a cozy Italian restaurant tucked away from the usual hustle. It was the perfect backdrop for soft candlelight and deep conversation over wine and pasta.

Susan arrived in a navy dress that hugged her figure just right, her hair cascading over her shoulders. She smiled, and I thought, Wow, this might actually be something.

The waiter had just set down a basket of fresh bread when the sound of the door swinging open grabbed my attention. At first, I ignored it. But then I heard a familiar voice.

Couple on a fancy dinner date | Source: Midjourney

“Oh, hey, Rob! Fancy seeing you here!”

I froze mid-reach for the breadstick. Standing at the entrance, unmistakably Linda from accounting. Her bright floral dress clashed with the scene, but that wasn’t the real problem. No, the real problem was the three kids clinging to her, each armed with loud, sticky energy.

“Linda?” I managed, blinking.

She marched over with her kids toward our table. “You didn’t tell me you were coming here tonight!” she said.

Mother and her children walking into a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

Susan’s confused glance darted between Linda and me. “Friend of yours?” she asked, her tone cautious.

“Colleague,” I corrected, a forced smile plastered on my face as Linda plopped her kids into chairs at our table.

“It’s packed tonight,” Linda said, casually stealing a breadstick. “I figured we’d join you. You don’t mind, do you?”

Oh, I minded. I really minded.

Linda had always been an enigma. A single mom of three — ages two, eight, and 12 — from two failed relationships, she was equally magnetic and intimidating.

Woman walking into a fancy restaurant with her three children | Source: Midjourney

Around the office, she commanded attention with her sharp intellect and striking beauty, though she kept everyone at arm’s length. I admired her resilience, devotion to her kids, and ability to balance chaos with grace.

But that admiration was from afar — strictly professional. Besides, a woman like Linda? She’s completely out of my league.

But tonight, as she slid into the booth beside me with her kids, her aura wasn’t awe-inspiring. It was suffocating.

“Linda, what are you doing here?” I stammered, my voice low, my eyes darting toward Susan, whose confusion had quickly hardened into annoyance.

Tense man talking to two women at a dinner table in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

“Oh, don’t be silly,” Linda replied, casually placing her hand on mine. I instinctively pulled back. “You promised to watch the kids tonight, and here you are… having dinner with her?” She nodded toward Susan as if she were an unwelcome guest.

Susan’s mouth fell open. “Excuse me?” she said, her voice sharp.

Linda wasn’t fazed. “I mean, we’re a family.” She gestured to her children, now happily devouring the breadbasket. “The kids were so excited to see you tonight!”

“Linda, I never promised—”

Tense man talking to two women at a dinner table | Source: Midjourney

She cut me off. “Really, Rob? You’re going to pretend this isn’t a thing in front of her?”

“Pretend what’s a thing?” Susan demanded, standing now, her face a mix of disbelief and fury.

Linda shrugged, a smug grin spreading across her face. “I didn’t mean to ruin your date, Susan. But you should know the kind of man you’re seeing. He’s been leading me — and the kids — on for months.”

My heart stopped. “What? Linda, stop this!” I hissed, glancing around. Other diners were starting to notice.

Susan grabbed her purse. “You two clearly have… unfinished business,” she snapped, glaring at me like I was something stuck to her shoe. She turned on her heel and stormed out.

I stood to follow her, but Linda’s toddler, an adorable baby girl, clung to my leg.

The restaurant went silent.

Toddler smiling while sitting in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

I turned to Linda, my voice barely contained. “What are you doing? You just ruined my date!”

She didn’t even flinch. Instead, she leaned back in her chair, her toddler now happily munching on a breadstick. “You should thank me.”

“Thank you?” I mumbled, my anger rising. “For what? Publicly humiliating me?”

Linda calmly pulled out her phone, scrolling with deliberate precision. “No. For saving you.”

“Saving me?” I stared at her like she’d lost her mind.

Man with a confused expression | Source: Midjourney

She flipped the phone around, holding up an image. “Recognize this?”

I squinted at the screen. It was a grainy photo, but there was no mistaking the face.”That’s… Susan. Why are you showing me this?”

“This,” Linda said, zooming in on the photo, “is a mugshot.”

The words didn’t register at first. “A mugshot?”

Linda nodded, her expression grave. “My brother’s a cop. Last night, I stopped by the station to drop off some paperwork for him. While I was there, I noticed her face on the bulletin board. She’s wanted for fraud.”

“Fraud?” I echoed, my brain struggling to keep up.

Man with a confused expression during dinner | Source: Midjourney

“Yeah,” Linda continued. “She’s been conning men. Gets into relationships with them, gains their trust, and then scams them out of thousands. I didn’t put two and two together until I saw the picture you posted on Instagram before your date tonight. So, I called my brother, and — well, here we are. She’s probably being arrested as we speak.”

The room tilted, or maybe it was just me. “You’re joking.”

“I’m not,” she said, her tone softening. “Look, Rob, I know this was… a lot. But I couldn’t just stand by and let her take advantage of you. You’re a good guy. You don’t deserve that.”

For a moment, I couldn’t speak. The anger drained from me, replaced by something else — disbelief, confusion, maybe even gratitude. “Why didn’t you just… tell me? Why the whole spectacle?”

Man with a confused expression having a conversation with his coworker | Source: Midjourney

Linda sighed, her gaze flickering toward her kids. “I tried calling you before your date, but you didn’t answer. And once I saw you here, I panicked. I didn’t want her slipping away. I did what I thought was best.”

I sat back, rubbing my temples as the weight of her words settled in. “So… you’re saying Susan is—”

“Gone,” Linda finished, her voice firm. “And you’re welcome.”

I stared at her, my emotions swirling into chaos. If she was telling the truth, then maybe she’d saved me from disaster. But the way she’d done it? I wasn’t sure I could forgive that.

Tense, confused man with arms crossed, talking to his coworker in a fancy restaurant | Source: Midjourney

The realization hit me like a freight train. Susan — charming, witty, and gorgeous — was a scam artist. And Linda, with her kids and bold, chaotic interruption, had just saved me from walking straight into a disaster.

The table fell silent, the air thick with unspoken tension. For a moment, I couldn’t look at Linda. My mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions — gratitude, embarrassment, and something else I couldn’t quite name.

Then her eldest broke the silence, kicking his legs under the table. “Are we getting pizza or what?”

I couldn’t help it — I laughed. A real, unfiltered laugh that seemed to cut through the tension in the room.

Man laughing while seated at a dinner table | Source: Midjourney

Linda smirked, leaning back in her chair. “You know, Rob, you should thank me right about now.”

I shook my head, half-amused, half-exasperated. “You’re unbelievable.”

She shrugged. “And yet, here you are. Not scammed out of your life savings.”

As I looked at her — tired but radiant, her kids clearly hanging on her every word — I felt something shift. Linda wasn’t just the brave, maddening woman who had bulldozed into my evening; she was something more. She’d saved me tonight, but she’d also shown me what I’d been too blind to see.

Man and woman in a fancy restaurant having dinner | Source: Midjourney

“Linda,” I began, my voice steadier than I expected, “can I buy you dinner? All of you.”

She blinked, clearly caught off guard. “You want to buy us dinner? After all this?”

“Yeah,” I said, glancing at the kids. “I think you’ve earned it. And honestly? I could use the company.”

Her oldest grinned. “I vote pizza!”

Linda studied me, her expression softening. Then she smiled — a real, genuine smile that made something stir in my chest. “Alright, Rob. But only if you’re buying dessert, too.”

“Deal,” I said, grinning.