My boyfriend Zach and I moved into our new home last November. Our neighbors, Sarah and her sons Richard and Bill, initially welcomed us warmly. However, one sunny day, as we enjoyed our garden, jets of water from the boys’ water guns hit us repeatedly. Despite Zach’s and my attempts to ask them to stop, the spraying continued.

Zach approached Sarah, who apologized and promised to talk to her kids, but the problem persisted. When I tried speaking to her, she dismissed it as kids playing and wouldn’t police their fun. Frustrated, we retreated indoors, noticing later that our garden lights had been damaged by the water.

Determined to address the issue creatively, I planned a garden party for the neighborhood, announcing it as a water gun event for the kids—except to Sarah. She arrived dressed up and was promptly drenched by the children.

Feigning nonchalance, I reminded her, “It’s just water.” Sarah, visibly embarrassed, left but soon returned in casual clothes, bringing a new garland to replace ours. She admitted the boys could be challenging but meant no harm.

We bonded over this shared experience, and as the evening went on, the atmosphere lightened. Sarah and I clinked glasses, laughing about our initial misunderstandings. The kids continued their water fun, and Zach and I mingled with other neighbors, finding the community spirit we had hoped for.

In hindsight, Sarah and I recognized the challenges each other faced, and through this, we formed a stronger neighborly bond.