… hatched a plan. If they wanted to treat my lawn like a parking lot, I’d make sure it wasn’t fit for one.
That night, I spread my secret weapon: industrial-strength fertilizer mixed with water. By morning, the ground was a slippery, sludgy mess. When the husband stomped out to his truck, he didn’t even make it to the door before his boot sank ankle-deep in the muck. His curses were music to my ears.
But that wasn’t all. I called the city and reported an “unauthorized vehicle damaging residential property.” Turns out, parking on someone else’s lawn can come with hefty fines. A few days later, a tow truck arrived, slapping a ticket on their windshield before hauling the pickup away.
The wife stormed over, screeching about how I “set them up.” I just smiled sweetly. “Oh dear, I thought you said there was no harm.”
Defeated, they never parked on my lawn again. And as I reseeded my grass, I made sure to water it extra well—with my garden hose aimed just right in case they ever tried stepping on it again.
