Larry, our clipboard-wielding HOA dictator, had no idea who he was messing with when he fined me for my lawn being half an inch too long. I decided to give him something to really look at, a lawn so outrageous, yet so perfectly within the rules, that he’d regret ever starting this fight.
For decades, my neighborhood was the kind of place where you could sip tea on your porch in peace, wave to the neighbors, and not worry about a thing.
Then Larry got his grubby hands on the HOA presidency.
Oh, Larry. You know the type: mid-50s, born in a pressed polo shirt, thinks the world revolves around his clipboard. From the moment he took office, it was like someone handed him the keys to a kingdom.
Or at least, that’s what he thought.
Now, I’ve been living here for twenty-five years. Raised three kids in this house. Buried a husband too. And you know what I’d learned?
Don’t mess with a woman who’s survived kids and a man who thought barbeque sauce was a vegetable. Larry clearly didn’t get that memo.
Ever since I skipped his precious HOA meeting last summer, he’s been out for blood. Like I needed to hear two hours of droning on about fence heights and paint colors. I had more important things to do — like watching my begonias bloom.
It all started last week.
I was out on the porch, minding my business, when I spotted Larry marching up the driveway, clipboard in hand.
“Oh, here we go,” I muttered, already feeling my blood pressure spike.
He stopped right at the foot of the steps, and didn’t even bother with a hello.
“Mrs. Pearson,” he began, his voice dripping with condescension. “I’m afraid you’ve violated the HOA’s lawn maintenance standards.”
I blinked at him, trying to keep my temper in check. “Is that so? The lawn’s been freshly mowed. Just did it two days ago.”
“Well,” he said, clicking his pen like he was about to write me up for a felony, “it’s half an inch too long. HOA standards are very clear about this.”
I stared at him. Half. An. Inch. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
His smug little grin told me otherwise.
“We have standards here, Mrs. Pearson. If we let one person get away with neglecting their lawn, what kind of message does that send?”
Oh, I could’ve throttled him right there. But I didn’t. Instead, I just smiled sweetly and said, “Thanks for the heads-up, Larry. I’ll be sure to trim that extra half-inch for you.”
Inside, though? I was fuming. Who did this guy think he was? Half an inch?
I’ve survived diaper blowouts, PTA meetings, and a husband who once tried to roast marshmallows using a propane torch. I wasn’t about to let Larry the Clipboard King push me around.
That night, I sat in my armchair, stewing over the whole thing. I thought about all the times in my life I’d been told to “follow the rules,” and how I’d managed to bend them just enough to keep my sanity.
If Larry wanted to play hardball, fine. Two could play that game.
And then it hit me: the HOA rulebook. That stupid, dusty old thing Larry was always quoting. I hadn’t bothered with it much over the years, but now it was time to get acquainted.
I flipped through it for a good hour, and there it was. Clear as day. Lawn decorations, tasteful, of course, were completely allowed, as long as they stayed within certain size and placement guidelines.
Oh, Larry. You poor, unfortunate soul. You had no idea what you’d just unleashed.
The very next morning, I went on the shopping spree of a lifetime. It was glorious. I bought gnomes. Not just any gnomes, though, giant ones. One was holding a lantern, another was fishing in a little fake pond I set up in the garden.
And an entire flock of pink, plastic flamingos. I clustered them together like they were planning some sort of tropical rebellion.
Then came the solar lights. I lined the walkway, the garden, and even hung a few in the trees. By the time I was done, my yard looked like a cross between a fairy tale and a Florida souvenir shop.
And the best part? Every single piece was perfectly HOA-compliant. Not a single rule was broken. I leaned back in my lawn chair, watching the sun set behind my masterpiece.
The twinkling lights came to life, casting a warm glow over my gnome army and the flamingo brigade. It was, in a word, glorious.
But Larry, oh Larry, was not going to take this lying down.
The first time he saw my yard, I knew I had him. I was watering the petunias when I spotted his car creeping down the street. His windows rolled down, his eyes narrowing as they scanned every inch of my lawn.
The way his jaw clenched, his fingers tight on the steering wheel — it was priceless. He slowed to a crawl, staring at the gnome with the margarita, lounging in his lawn chair like he didn’t have a care in the world.
I gave Larry a little wave, extra sweet, as if I didn’t know I’d just declared war.
He stared at me, his face turning the color of a sunburned tomato, and then, without a word, he sped off.
I let out a laugh so loud it startled a squirrel in the oak tree. “That’s right, Larry. You can’t touch this.”
For a few days, I thought maybe, just maybe, he’d let it go. Silly me. A week later, there he was again, stomping up to my door with that clipboard, wearing his HOA President badge like he’d been knighted.
“Mrs. Pearson,” he began, not even bothering with pleasantries, “I’ve come to inform you that your mailbox violates HOA standards.”
I blinked at him. “The mailbox?” I tilted my head toward it. “Larry, I just painted that thing two months ago. It’s pristine.”
He squinted at it like he’d found some imaginary flaw. “The paint is chipping,” he insisted, scribbling something on his clipboard.
I glanced at the mailbox again. Not a chip in sight. But I knew this wasn’t about the mailbox. This was personal.
“You’ve got a lot of nerve,” I muttered, crossing my arms. “All this over half an inch of grass?”
“I’m just enforcing the rules,” Larry said, but the look in his eyes told a different story.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Sure, Larry. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
He turned on his heel and strutted back to his car like he’d just delivered some life-altering decree. I watched him go, fury bubbling up inside me. Oh, he thought he could win this? Fine. Let the games begin.
That night, I hatched a plan. If Larry wanted a fight, he was going to get one. I spent the next morning back at the garden store, loading up on more gnomes, more flamingos, and just for fun, a motion-activated sprinkler system.
By the time I was done, my yard looked like a carnival of absurdity. Gnomes of all sizes stood proudly in formation, some fishing, some holding tiny shovels, and one, my new favorite, lounging in a hammock with a miniature beer in hand.
The flamingos? They’d formed their own pink plastic army, marching across the lawn with solar lights guiding their way.
But the pièce de résistance? The sprinkler system. Every time Larry came by to inspect my yard, the motion sensor would activate, spraying water in every direction. Totally by accident, of course.
The first time it happened, I nearly fell off the porch laughing.
Larry pulled up, clipboard ready, only to be met with a stream of water straight to the face. He spluttered, waving his arms like a drowning cat, and retreated to his car, soaked to the bone.
The look of pure outrage on his face was worth every penny I’d spent.
But the best part? The neighbors started to notice.
One by one, they began stopping by to compliment my “creative flair.”
Mrs. Johnson from three houses down said she loved the “whimsical” atmosphere. Mr. Thompson chuckled, saying he hadn’t seen Larry so flustered in years. And soon, it wasn’t just compliments. The neighbors started putting up their own lawn decorations.
It began with a few garden gnomes, but soon, flamingos popped up all over the cul-de-sac, twinkling lights appeared in every yard, and someone even set up a miniature windmill.
Larry couldn’t keep up.
His clipboard became a joke. The once-feared fines became a badge of honor among the residents, and the more he tried to tighten his grip, the more the neighborhood slipped through his fingers.
Every day, Larry had to drive past our gnomes, our flamingos, and our lights, knowing full well that we’d beaten him at his own game.
And me? I watched the chaos unfold with a smile on my face.
The whole neighborhood had come together, united by lawn ornaments and sheer spite. And Larry, poor Larry, was left powerless, just a man with a soggy clipboard and no authority to back it up.
So, Larry, if you’re reading this, keep on looking. I’ve got plenty more ideas where these came from.
5 Creatures That Can Crawl In Through Your Toilet and How to Stop Them
If you are wondering why bugs and other pests pay your bathroom a visit, it’s because of all the moisture. And when we’re talking about the toilet seat, in particular, many people fail to clean it consistently and in detail. Flushing isn’t enough, since there is the residue left behind and that is enough to attract all the wrong guests.
Bright Side wants you to know that many pests can crawl into your house through your toilet and that there are ways to prevent this from happening.
1. Snakes
Snakes just love cool, wet, and dark places and that’s why your toilet pipes can be very intriguing to them. But, what drives them there in the first place is the sewer that has food remnants that they can feed on. When they are finished with their food in the sewer, they will look for a way out and the pipes are the easiest and quickest route. However, you shouldn’t be afraid if you live in a cold environment, since snakes will only sneak up in toilets in warm countries.
It’s usually harmless snakes that crawl through the pipes, like garden or tree snakes. That’s because these snakes are slimmer than venomous ones and can fit through the pipes. Although, some anacondas have appeared in people’s toilets in South America and Australia.
2. Rats
Like snakes, rats are also in constant pursuit of food and our pipes can be very appealing to them. In houses where the toilet and garbage disposal end up in the same pipes, rats are more likely to find a way in. And because their anatomy is very bendy, they can swim through the pipes and hold their breath for minutes before they need air.
So, it’s not just important to discard your food remnants in a trash bag but to also never flush food down the toilet. If there is no food in the pipes, rats won’t have any reason to try and enter your sewage system. You should also keep the toilet cover closed at all times and maybe install a rat guard. This allows water to exit the pipes whenever you flush, but nothing can come up in the opposite direction.
3. Spiders
With spiders, things get a bit more complex, since they can’t swim in your pipes, but they can appear in your bathroom through another passage. And when they get in, they will probably sit outside the toilet seat. Only black widows will crawl inside the toilet and weave their web from side to side. But, that will happen only in an outdoor toilet that doesn’t have plumbing and that isn’t connected to a sewer system.
That’s where these venomous spiders thrive since there are many flies that they can catch for food. That’s also why you need to always check the seat thoroughly before using an outhouse toilet. Spiders, like the black widow, the brown recluse, and the hobo spider won’t have any trouble biting you.
4. Lizards
In the Southwest United States, lizards coming through the toilet pipes are a quite common occurrence. That’s because these creatures love water and they try to find food wherever they can. Crickets and other insects (like flies) can be found a lot in your toilet’s plumbing if it’s not kept decently clean. The lizards that can achieve this are usually small enough that they can fit through the pipes.
5. Possums
In 2008, a man was in his bathroom in Australia when he saw the water in the toilet gurgling. Moments later, a baby possum appeared and this is not the first time this has happened. On another occasion, a woman found a dead possum in her toilet. These unusual guests are excellent swimmers and can hold their breath for a long time — that’s why they can crawl into your toilet.
How to prevent and react to these occurrences
- Keep your toilet clean: This may sound obvious, but you really need to clean your toilet often and neatly. Disinfecting cleaners are perfect for that job and if you want something cheaper you can resort to white wine vinegar or baking soda. You can also get one of those fresheners that stick on the side of the toilet and release a nice smell every time you flush.
- Keep it dry: Most pests love humidity and that’s why they will be attracted to wet bathroom floors. So, it’s important to get rid of any standing water from the sink or the floor after you’ve taken a shower. If you notice any leaks in your plumbing, call a technician immediately and get them fixed.
- Clean your pipes naturally: In a bowl, add equal parts of sugar, water, vinegar, and 5-10 drops of dish soap. Mix all of this together and pour it down the toilet or in your bathroom sink. You can also pour some boiling water into the toilet.
- Call a pest control company: If you don’t have the time or courage to deal with pests yourself, call professionals and let them use their heavy cleaners. After that is done, you can occasionally throw water mixed with a cleaning solution down the drain to make sure no pest will climb up into the toilet.
Have you ever found an uninvited guest in your toilet — if so, what was it and how did you react?
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