When I politely asked my neighbor to stop sunbathing in bikinis in front of my teenage son’s window, she retaliated by planting a filthy toilet on my lawn with a sign: “FLUSH YOUR OPINION HERE!” I was livid, but karma delivered the perfect revenge.

I should’ve known trouble was brewing when Shannon moved in next door and immediately painted her house purple, then orange, and then blue. But I’m a firm believer in living and letting live. That was right up until she started hosting bikini sunbathing spectacles right outside my 15-year-old son’s window.

“Mom!” my son Jake burst into the kitchen one morning, his face redder than the tomatoes I was slicing for lunch. “Can you… um… do something about that? Outside my window?”

I marched to his room and peered out the window. There was Shannon, sprawled out on a leopard-print lounger, wearing the tiniest bikinis that could generously be called dental floss with sequins.

“Just keep your blinds closed, honey,” I said, trying to sound casual while my mind raced.

“But I can’t even open them to get fresh air anymore!” Jake slumped against the bed.

“This is so weird. Tommy came over to study yesterday, and he walked into my room and just froze. Like, mouth open, eyes bulging, full system shutdown. His mom probably won’t let him come back!”

I sighed, closing the blinds. “Has she been out there like that every day?”

“Every. Single. Day. Mom, I’m dying. I can’t live like this. I’m going to have to become a mole person and live in the basement. Do we have Wi-Fi down there?”

After a week of watching my teenage son practically parkour around his room to avoid glimpsing our exhibitionist neighbor, I decided to have a friendly chat with Shannon.

I usually mind my own business when it comes to what people do in their yards, but Shannon’s idea of ‘sunbathing’ was more like a public performance.

She’d lounge around in the skimpiest of bikinis, sometimes even going topless, and there was no way to miss her every time we stood near Jake’s window.

“Hey, Shannon,” I called out, aiming for that sweet spot between ‘friendly neighbor’ and ‘concerned parent’ tone of voice. “Got a minute?”

She lowered her oversized sunglasses, the ones that made her look like a bedazzled praying mantis. “Renee! Come to borrow some tanning oil? I just got this amazing coconut one. Makes you smell like a tropical vacation and poor life choices.”

“Actually, I wanted to talk about your sunbathing spot. See, it’s right in front of my son Jake’s window, and he’s 15, and—”

“Oh. My. God.” Shannon sat up, her face splitting into an unnervingly wide grin. “Are you seriously trying to police where I can get my vitamin D? In my own yard?”

“That’s not what I—”

“Listen, sweetie,” she cut me off, examining her hot pink nails like they held the secrets to the universe. “If your kid can’t handle seeing a confident woman living her best life, maybe you should invest in better blinds. Or therapy. Or both. I know this amazing life coach who could help him overcome his repression. She specializes in aura cleansing and interpretive dance.”

“Shannon, please. I’m just asking if you could maybe move your chair literally anywhere else in your yard. You have two acres!”

“Hmm.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully, then reached for her phone. “Let me check my schedule. Oh, look at that! I’m booked solid with not caring about your opinion until… forever.”

I retreated, wondering if I’d somehow stumbled into an episode of “Neighbors Gone Wild.” But Shannon wasn’t done with me yet. Not by a long shot.

Two days later, I opened my front door to grab the newspaper and stopped dead in my tracks.

There, proudly displayed in the middle of my perfectly manicured lawn, was a toilet bowl. Not just any toilet. It was an old, filthy, tetanus-inducing throne, complete with a handwritten sign that read: “FLUSH YOUR OPINION HERE!”

I knew it was Shannon’s handiwork.

“What do you think of my art installation?” her voice floated over from her yard. She was perched on her lounger, looking like a very smug, very underdressed cat.

“I call it ‘Modern Suburban Discourse.’ The local art gallery already wants to feature it in their ‘Found Objects’ exhibition!” she laughed.

“Are you kidding me?” I gestured at the porcelain monstrosity. “This is vandalism!”

“No, honey, this is self-expression. Like my sunbathing. But since you’re so interested in giving opinions about what people do on their property, I thought I’d give you a proper place to put them.”

I stood there on my lawn, staring at Shannon cackling like a hyena, and something inside me just clicked.

You know that moment when you realize you’re playing chess with a pigeon? The bird’s just going to knock over all the pieces, strut around like it won, and leave droppings everywhere. That was Shannon.

I crossed my arms and sighed. Sometimes the best revenge is just sitting back and watching karma do its thing.

The weeks that followed tested my patience. Shannon turned her yard into what I can only describe as a one-woman Woodstock. The sunbathing continued, now with an added commentary track.

she invited friends, and her parties rattled windows three houses down, complete with karaoke renditions of “I Will Survive” at 3 a.m. She even started a “meditation drum circle” that sounded more like a herd of caffeinated elephants learning to Riverdance.

Through it all, I smiled and waved. Because here’s the thing about people like Shannon — they’re so busy writing their own drama that they never see the plot twist coming.

And oh boy, what a twist it was.

It was a pleasant Saturday. I was baking cookies when I heard sirens. I stepped onto my porch just in time to see a fire truck screech to a halt in front of my house.

“Ma’am,” a firefighter approached me, looking confused. “We received a report about a sewage leak?”

Before I could respond, Shannon appeared, wearing a concerned citizen face that deserved an Oscar. “Yes, officer! That toilet over there… it’s a health hazard! I’ve seen things… terrible things… leaking! The children, won’t someone think of the children?”

The firefighter looked at the bone-dry decorative toilet, then at Shannon, then back at the toilet. His expression suggested he was questioning every life choice that led him to this moment.

“Ma’am, making false emergency reports is a crime. This is clearly a lawn ornament,” he paused, probably wondering why he had to say a phrase like that as part of his job.

“A dry lawn ornament. And I’m a firefighter, not a health inspector.”

Shannon’s face fell faster than her sunscreen coverage rating. “But the aesthetic pollution! The visual contamination!”

“Ma’am, we don’t respond to aesthetic emergencies, and pranks are definitely not something we respond to.”

With that, the firefighters left the property, but karma wasn’t finished with Shannon. Not by a long shot.

The fire truck drama barely slowed her down. If anything, it inspired her to reach new heights. Literally.

One scorching afternoon, I spotted Shannon hauling her leopard-print lounger up a ladder to her garage roof. And there she was, perched up high like some sort of sunbathing gargoyle, armed with a reflective tanning sheet and what looked like an industrial-sized margarita.

I was in my kitchen, elbow-deep in dinner dishes, and wondering if this was the universe’s way of testing my blood pressure when the sound of chaos erupted outside.

I heard a splash and a screech that sounded like a cat in a washing machine. I rushed outside to find Shannon face-down in her prized petunias, covered from head to toe in mud.

Turned out that her new rooftop sunbathing spot had met its match — her malfunctioning sprinkler system.

Our neighbor, Mrs. Peterson, dropped her gardening shears. “Good Lord! Shannon, are you trying to recreate Baywatch? Because I think you missed the beach part. And the running part. And the… well… every part.”

Shannon scrambled up, caked in mud. Her designer bikini was now accessorized with grass stains and what appeared to be a very surprised earthworm.

Following the incident, Shannon was as quiet as a church mouse. She stopped sunbathing in front of Jake’s window, and the dirty toilet bowl on my lawn disappeared faster than a magician’s rabbit.

Shannon invested in a privacy fence around her backyard, and our long suburban nightmare was over.

“Mom,” Jake said at breakfast the next morning, cautiously raising his blinds, “is it safe to come out of witness protection now?”

I smiled, sliding him a plate of pancakes. “Yeah, honey. I think the show’s been canceled. Permanently.”

“Thank god,” he muttered, then grinned. “Though I kind of miss the toilet. It was weirdly starting to grow on me. Like a really ugly lawn gnome.”

“Don’t even joke about that. Eat your pancakes before she decides to install a whole bathroom set!” I said, sharing a hearty laugh with my son as we looked at the wall around Shannon’s yard.

Here’s another story: My neighbor kept hanging out her panties right outside my 8-year-old son’s window. When I politely requested her not to do it, she rudely dismissed me, prompting me to take matters into my own hands.

After years of love and a journey shared with the world, Greg Mathis Jr. and Elliott Cooper said “I do” in an intimate ceremony. With just family by their side, they turned their big day into a “dream come true.”

Greg Mathis Jr. and Elliott Cooper’s wedding was a heartfelt celebration set against the sun-drenched shores of Cabo San Lucas.

The couple said “I do” on October 21, at the luxurious Waldorf Astoria, surrounded by just 15 of their closest family members.

The 5-star hotel became a sanctuary of love for Greg Jr., 35, and Elliott, 49, who marked the occasion in custom high-waisted suits.

Greg Jr., opted for a classic navy blue suit while Elliott donned a striking purple one—a color chosen to honor his late mother, who lost her life to lupus during his college years.

The grooms’ style was timeless exactly as Greg Jr. had envisioned. Speaking about their wedding outfits, Greg Jr. noted, “We both wanted a look that was classic, but also with some flair and our own personal style and touch.”

The couple first met through mutual friends on Valentine’s Day in 2016.

While exchanging their vows, Broadway star Kyle Freeman performed Luther Vandross’ “Here and Now,” capturing the joy and gravity of their union.

Once the reception began, the newlyweds changed into their second outfits ready to celebrate with their family.

Their beach-themed decor, designed by event planner Andrew Roby, transformed the sandy shores into an elegant affair.

The couple opted for dark purple, navy, and black with bright yellow accents, creating a striking yet serene vibe.

But that’s not the end of the celebration; the newlyweds plan a bigger ceremony in Los Angeles next year. They said that their Mexico wedding was all about creating a “family trip” feel a chance to make memories with their loved ones.

After the two publicly came out about their relationship on Greg Jr’s family reality show, “Mathis Family Matters,” in 2022, they’ve always put their family at the heart of their bond.

“Family is one thing with Greg and I that really solidified our relationship in the beginning,” Elliott shared. “Family is super important to me and us because we know that they love us and we love them.”

Cabo San Lucas was the perfect backdrop for their ceremony. The location holds special meaning for them, as it was the destination of their first trip together when they started dating.

Since then, the Mexico tourist destination has become one of their favorite vacation spots. “We love the beach … and the ambience has such a natural beauty,” Elliott explains.

Before the wedding, a welcome dinner at Nobu Los Cabos set the tone for the days to come. The ceremony itself was deeply personal, with the grooms’ fathers, officiating together.

It was an idea Greg Jr. came up with to make the moment even more meaningful. Reflecting on the day, the reality star said it was special and “a dream come true.”

Before exchanging vows, Greg Jr. and Elliott had already spent eight years together.

They marked their anniversary this past February—the same month they first met. Greg Jr. commemorated the milestone on Instagram, sharing photos of the couple and a heartfelt caption.

“Yesterday, we celebrated our 8 Year Anniversary alongside Valentine’s Day! ❤️It was great to sit down with Pride.com to talk about our recent engagement, careers and life on the West Coast,” he wrote capturing the joy of their journey together.

The couple announced their engagement back in July through Instagram. They celebrated the moment by sharing several snaps on the photo-sharing platform. Speaking to a publication, Greg Jr. said, “To be completely honest, for many years, we weren’t sure if we wanted to formally get married.”

The judge’s son revealed that he and Elliott knew they loved each other and wished to be lifelong partners, but “marriage seemed a bit more difficult to visualize.” The star’s now-husband noted how there weren’t “many married couples” like themselves to look up to.

Still, they viewed their wedding as a “must-have” because representation is important in the LGBTIQ+ community. The couple said getting married is bigger than the institution because it is more about them having “a special way to honor the life we have built together.”

The pair shared their awareness of the times we live in now and what their relationship “represents to others.” They realized that their relationship and marriage can guide young and old Queer people who, like them, “deserve to know that there is nothing wrong with them and that they have a place in this world.”

On September 29, 2023, Elliott proposed to Greg Jr. at Los Angeles’ Republique French-themed restaurant. The establishment reminded them of their past anniversary trips to Paris. The country also happened to be the first place where they felt safe enough to hold hands.

Greg Jr. described Republique as their “little piece of Paris in Los Angeles.” Their friends and family were invited to the occasion under the pretense of supporting the pair at the 2023 Los Angeles Walk to End Lupus, which the couple hosted.

After having the first dinner course, Elliott proposed. Greg Jr. recalled how their loved ones “were so excited we couldn’t even finish the rest of our meal.” Still, what the judge’s son looks forward to is the honeymoon.

He said he hoped to convince Elliott to allow them to visit Bora Bora. The reality television star also can’t wait for them to start their family and to continue experiencing life together. He shared, “We are already a solid unit, but I’m excited for all of the added fun that the ‘Mathis-Coopers’ are going to have.”

After my son convinced me to live in a nursing home, I wrote letters to him daily telling him I missed him. He never replied to any of them until one day, a stranger shared why and came to take me home.

When I turned 81, I was diagnosed with Osteoporosis, which made it difficult for me to move around without assistance. My condition also made it difficult for my son Tyler and his wife Macy to take care of me, so they decided to move me to a nursing home.

“We can’t be tending to you the entire day, mom,” Tyler told me. “We have work to do. We’re not caregivers.”

I wondered why he suddenly felt that way towards me, as I always tried to stay out of their way so I wouldn’t disrupt their daily schedules. I would stay in my room and use my walker to assist me whenever I needed to walk to another area of the house.

“I’ll stay out of your way, I promise. Just don’t send me to a nursing home, please. Your father built this house for me, and I’d love to keep living here for the rest of my life,” I begged.

Tyler shrugged me off, saying that the house my late husband James had built was “too big for me.”

“Come on, mom,” he said. “Leave the house to Macy and me! Look at all this space – we can have a gym and separate offices. There’s plenty of room to renovate.”

At this point, I understood that his decision to move me to a nursing home was not because he wanted me to get proper care but to get my house for himself. I was deeply hurt, trying to stop myself from crying upon realizing that somehow, Tyler had grown up to be a selfish man.

“Where did I go wrong?” I asked myself when I got into my room that night. I thought I had raised a well-mannered man, but it seems I was wrong. I never expected to be betrayed by my son.

Without giving me much of a choice, Tyler and Macy took me to a nursing home nearby, where they said I’d get round-the-clock care from the nurses. “Don’t worry, mom, we’ll visit as much as we can,” Tyler assured me.

Hearing this, I realized that maybe moving to a nursing home wasn’t too bad because they’d come to see me anyway. Little did I know, Tyler was lying and simply trying to get me off his back.

Every day at the nursing home seemed like an eternity. Although the nurses were friendly and the other patients were nice to talk to, I still longed to be with family and not in a place full of strangers.

Without a phone or tablet, I wrote letters to Tyler every day asking him to visit me or how they were doing. Not once did I get a response nor a visit.

After two years in the nursing home, I lost any hope of anyone coming. “Please, take me home,” I would pray every night, but after two years, I tried to convince myself not to get my hopes up anymore.

One day, however, I was surprised to find out from my nurse that a man in his forties was at the counter, looking for me. “Did my son finally come to visit?” I said, getting my walker quickly before making my way to the front.

When I got there, I had a big smile on my face thinking it was Tyler, but to my surprise, it was another man I hadn’t seen in ages. “Mom!” he called out and gave me a tight hug.

“Ron? Is it you, Ron?” I asked him.

“It’s me, mom. How have you been? I’m sorry it took me so long to visit you. I just arrived back from Europe, and I went straight to your house,” he said.

“My house? Did you see Tyler and Macy there? They put me in this nursing home a couple of years ago, and I haven’t seen them since,” I revealed.

Ron looked at me sadly and asked for me to sit down. We sat in front of each other on the couch, and he began to fill me in on what had happened in the past two years I was inside the nursing home.

“Mom, I’m sorry you have to hear this from me. I thought you already knew,” he started to say. “Tyler and Macy died in a house fire last year… I only found out when I went to your house and saw it abandoned. I decided to check the mailbox to see if I could get information on where to find you, and I saw all your unread letters,” he explained.

I couldn’t believe what Ron was telling me. Although I felt resentment towards my son for what he did to me, hearing about his death still broke my heart. I cried that entire day, mourning him and my daughter-in-law Macy.

Throughout my crying, Ron never left my side. He consoled and stayed with me without saying a word until I was ready to speak again.

Ron was a boy I once took into my home. He and Tyler were childhood friends and were inseparable when they were younger.

Unlike Tyler, who had everything he could possibly want, Ron lived in poverty and was raised by his grandmother after his parents passed away. I treated him like my own son, fed him, clothed him, and made him live with us until he moved out to study college in Europe.

After getting a high-paying job in Europe, Ron didn’t return to the US, and we eventually lost touch. I never thought I’d see him again until he showed up at the nursing home.

“Mom,” he said after I finally calmed down. “I don’t believe you belong here in this nursing home. Will you please allow me to take you home? I would love to take care of you,” he said.

I couldn’t help but cry once more. My own son kicked me out of my house, and in front of me was a man who wanted to take me in, even though I wasn’t his blood relative. “Would you really do that for me?”

“Of course, mom. You don’t even have to ask that. You raised me to be who I am today. Without you, I’m nothing,” Ron said, hugging me.

That evening, Ron helped Jude pack her things and took her into his newly-purchased home. There, Jude discovered he had a large family, and they welcomed Jude warmly. She spent her last years in happiness, surrounded by people who truly loved her and cared for her.

What can we learn from this story?

Respect your elders and never forget what they’ve done for you. Tyler didn’t show appreciation to his mom despite everything she had done for him. He didn’t want the responsibility of taking care of her when she got older and chose to send her to a nursing home.

Family doesn’t always mean blood. Ron didn’t see Jude for years but never forgot about the kindness she showed him when he was younger. Ultimately, he decided to repay her kindness by taking her in and caring for her for the rest of her life.

Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.

If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a son who visited his dad at a nursing home, only for the nurse to say that his carbon copy had taken the old man home a day before.