Tell Me About the Most Ridiculous Thing Your Entitled Neighbor Did

My entitled neighbor tried to break into my house and steal my Grandma’s family heirlooms so I got him imprisoned and had his kids taken away. When my grandmother passed away, her house was inherited by my father, who passed away just three days later after being hit by a drunk driver.

The house went to me, and on my first day after moving in, my neighbor Todd showed up with his two young kids. As soon as I opened the door, he started interrogating me as to why he and his kids weren’t invited to my Grandma’s funeral.

Before I could respond, he demanded I give him a copy of her will. According to him, his kids were like family to her and should get whatever heirlooms they wanted.

With that, his kids ran past him and into the house then started rummaging through drawers. His daughter stumbled upon a ring that had been passed down three generations and was set to go to my aunt, and she put it on.

I told Todd to get her to take the ring off, but he refused. He said again his kids were like family to her, but I yelled that Grandma hated them.

They were entitled and did what they liked and even ruined her lawn with dog poop. I threatened to call the cops unless his daughter took the ring off, and that’s what made him listen.

His daughter screamed she didn’t want to and even hit Todd, but the ring eventually came off. As he left, he yelled, “This wasn’t finished and that he’d get his heirlooms in the end.”

He wasn’t lying when he said this wasn’t finished, as in the following days he started dropping by unannounced. He found every excuse to bring up the will, his kids, or what he thought Grandma would have wanted.

He had the nerve to act as though his kids were the rightful heirs and often threw guilt trips about how much they loved her and how devastated they were to not have a piece of her memory. It was all nonsense.

One evening after a really draining day of sorting through my father’s things, I came home to find Todd standing on my front porch with a box of donuts. He had a grin on his face that made my skin crawl.

And before I could even ask what he was doing there, he launched into some story about how his daughter had cried herself to sleep, heartbroken over not getting anything of Grandma’s stuff. He ended his speech by offering me a donut.

He went on to say that he wanted to talk neighbor to neighbor. I flat out told him that neither he nor his kids were getting anything; we’d already been through this.

I walked past him and his donuts and left them on the porch looking dumbfounded. He didn’t say anything as I closed the door, but I could feel his eyes on me through the window for far too long before he finally walked away.

Things quieted down for a few days after that, and I started to think maybe Todd had finally gotten the message. About a week later, I came home from running errands and found Todd and his two kids at my front door.

His son was standing there trying to pick the lock with a screwdriver while Todd stood behind him coaching like this was some kind of life lesson. It took me a second to even register what I was seeing and then I lost it.

I shouted at them as I ran up to the doorway. Todd turned around and looked startled for maybe half a second before his face slipped into an irritating fake smile.

He tried to calm me down and told me that it wasn’t what it looked like. He said my door was stuck and that he thought that they could help me out.

I told him, “Yeah it was stuck by a lock to keep people like you out.”

His son dropped the screwdriver and Todd’s daughter shrank behind him, but Todd just kept smiling. He acted as if this was all one big misunderstanding.

He told me there was no need to call the cops and that it was just a mistake. I’d have to have idiot written across my forehead if he’d thought I was buying that for a second.

I kicked him and his little hoodlums off my property and told them if they pulled that stunt again I’d call the cops. He opened his mouth to argue, but I wasn’t about to let him get another word in.

I pulled out my phone and hovered my finger over the call button, which seemed to do the trick. Todd threw his hands up in mock surrender and sure enough left just as quickly as they had come.

I stood there for a long time after they were gone; my heart was still racing. I knew I should have called the police right then and there, but something stopped me.

I thought it was maybe the exhaustion; against my better judgment I let it go. A few days later, I noticed something was off.

I had been slowly packing up boxes in the garage and storing away the sentimental things that I wasn’t ready to go through yet. One afternoon, I went to grab a few boxes to bring inside, and that’s when I realized several of them were missing.

My grandmother’s old photos, letters, and even some of the jewelry she had given me; all of it was gone. I knew it was Todd; who else would have the audacity to break into my garage and steal from me?

But with no proof, I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t exactly storm over to his house and demand my things back, so I did the only thing I could.

I filed a police report. The cops came, took down my statement, and told me there wasn’t much they could do without proof.

It felt like a slap in the face. I was beyond pissed, but there was nothing I could do.