When the Smiths first moved into our quiet suburban neighborhood, they seemed nice — inviting us to a cheerful BBQ where they promised to be good neighbors. But it didn’t take long before the late-night parties started. The loud music kept our kids awake, and even our dog, Max, was restless. One night, the chaos spilled over when their guests trashed our pool with bottles and food.

I confronted Tom, but he brushed it off, laughing and telling me to “lighten up.” Furious, I decided to use our new motion-activated sprinklers. As soon as I turned them on, jets of icy water drenched the trespassing partygoers, sending them screaming and running back to their yard. Tom stormed over, furious, but there was nothing he could say his guests had been caught red-handed.

The next morning, to our surprise, the Smiths were already cleaning up our yard. Tom, looking embarrassed, apologized and promised it wouldn’t happen again. Lisa and I accepted, asking only that they be more considerate in the future. It seemed the message had finally sunk in.

In the weeks that followed, the Smiths changed. The loud parties stopped, and they even joined neighborhood activities Karen in the book club, Tom in the community yard sale. One evening, watching our kids play peacefully again, Lisa smiled and said, “It feels good to have our neighborhood back.” And she was right sometimes it takes a little storm to clear the air.