Moving into a new neighborhood is supposed to be a fresh start, a chance to enjoy peace and maybe even make new friends. That’s what I thought when I moved into Maple Grove with my eight-year-old son, Daniel. Life had been tough since the divorce, but we were finally ready for a new chapter. Unfortunately, I hadn’t counted on Linda—the neighbor who would turn my life into a package-stealing nightmare.
Linda seemed sweet at first. The day we moved in, she appeared at my door with a tray of cookies and a smile so wide it could sell toothpaste. “Welcome to the neighborhood!” she chirped. “I’m Linda, from next door. Let me know if you ever need anything.”
At first, I thought she was a godsend. She was always around to chat, offering advice about local schools and parks. “Packages can disappear sometimes,” she mentioned casually one day. “If I see one on your porch, I’ll grab it for you so it doesn’t get stolen.”
It sounded neighborly enough, but soon, I started noticing my packages weren’t where they were supposed to be. At first, it was small stuff—a pair of socks for Daniel, some stationery for work. Every time, Linda would show up with the package already opened. “Oh, I thought this was mine!” she’d say with a giggle, handing it over as if she’d done me a favor.
The first few times, I gave her the benefit of the doubt. Mistakes happen, right? But as the weeks passed, the “mistakes” became too frequent to ignore. One day, a pair of winter boots I’d been saving for vanished. Furious, I knocked on Linda’s door. She answered with her usual grin, holding the opened box. “I didn’t realize it wasn’t for me,” she said again.
I bit my tongue, but my patience was wearing thin. Then came the final straw: a limited-edition Christmas ornament for my mom, something I’d gone out of my way to order. When the tracking said it was delivered and it wasn’t on my porch, I knew exactly where to go. Sure enough, Linda returned it opened, the delicate ornament unwrapped. “I thought it was a gift for me!” she said with a smug laugh.
That was it. I wasn’t going to let her get away with this anymore. If Linda wanted to keep taking my packages, I’d give her one she wouldn’t forget. That night, after tucking Daniel into bed, I ordered a spring-loaded glitter bomb kit. It arrived a few days later, and I couldn’t stop grinning as I set it up. I wrote my name and address on the box, wrapped it in festive paper, and left it prominently on my porch.
The next day, I saw Linda strolling by, pretending to admire the neighborhood decorations. She glanced at my porch, looked around to make sure no one was watching, and snatched the package. Gotcha.
The following morning, I woke up to the sound of shouting. I peeked out my window and saw Linda on her porch, covered in glitter. Her hair sparkled like a disco ball, and her clothes were a mess of shimmering chaos. She screamed as she tried to shake the glitter off, but it clung to her like a second skin.
Moments later, she stormed over to my house, pounding on the door. “HOW DARE YOU!” she shrieked, waving the glitter-covered box in my face.
I opened the door with my sweetest smile. “Oh, Linda! Did you accidentally take my package again?”
“You think this is funny?” she spat, shaking the box.
“Funny? No,” I replied calmly. “Satisfying? Absolutely. Maybe next time you’ll think twice before taking something that doesn’t belong to you.”
Linda stammered, clearly struggling to come up with an excuse. Finally, she turned and stormed back to her house, leaving a trail of glitter behind her.
Word spread quickly around the neighborhood. It turned out Linda had been helping herself to other people’s packages for years, but most were too polite—or too scared—to confront her. My glitter stunt gave them the courage to speak up.
After that, Linda kept to herself. For weeks, I’d catch glimpses of her still sparkling in the sunlight, no matter how much she tried to scrub the glitter away. As for me, I haven’t had a single package go missing since.
Sometimes, justice isn’t served in court—it’s delivered in a glitter bomb. And let me tell you, it sparkles.
Lila Hart is a dedicated Digital Archivist and Research Specialist with a keen eye for preserving and curating meaningful content. At TheArchivists, she specializes in organizing and managing digital archives, ensuring that valuable stories and historical moments are accessible for generations to come.
Lila earned her degree in History and Archival Studies from the University of Edinburgh, where she cultivated her passion for documenting the past and preserving cultural heritage. Her expertise lies in combining traditional archival techniques with modern digital tools, allowing her to create comprehensive and engaging collections that resonate with audiences worldwide.
At TheArchivists, Lila is known for her meticulous attention to detail and her ability to uncover hidden gems within extensive archives. Her work is praised for its depth, authenticity, and contribution to the preservation of knowledge in the digital age.
Driven by a commitment to preserving stories that matter, Lila is passionate about exploring the intersection of history and technology. Her goal is to ensure that every piece of content she handles reflects the richness of human experiences and remains a source of inspiration for years to come.
