Our first family vacation in our new home was perfect—until I checked our security app and saw our neighbor, Greg, steal our grill. The fallout was both stunning and oddly poetic. Six months ago, my wife, Laura, and I moved into a charming suburban house with our kids, Emma and Jack. The neighborhood felt like a dream—green lawns, friendly faces, and room for the kids to play. After years in a tiny apartment, we were overjoyed. Laura and I watched the kids run around the yard, knowing we’d found our forever home.
Greg, our next-door neighbor, seemed friendly at first. He dropped off a pie to welcome us, saying he’d lived there for decades and knew everyone. But something about his overly familiar tone made me uneasy. A few weeks later, I caught him poking around another neighbor’s yard while they were out of town. When I asked, he brushed it off, saying, “They’re cool with it.” Laura and I exchanged wary glances but didn’t push, wanting to keep the peace.
At our housewarming cookout, Greg’s behavior turned odd. Laura had saved up for a top-notch grill, and while guests raved, Greg seemed fixated. “That’s a fancy piece,” he said, almost resentful. “You barely use it.” His words hung in the air, and I noticed him staring at the grill all evening. Over the next few weeks, he kept showing up unannounced, asking to borrow things or commenting on our packages. Once, he planted shrubs in our yard without permission, saying his was too crowded. We were irritated but let it slide.
Before our beach trip, we got cautious. We set up a security camera and chained the grill tightly. “Should we store it in the garage?” Laura asked. I shook my head—it was too heavy. We mentioned to Greg that a neighbor would check on our house, hoping he’d stay away. The kids were buzzing about the beach, eager for waves and a pool. We locked up and left, feeling safe.
At the resort, we were unwinding when I checked the camera app. The grill was missing. Footage showed Greg cutting the chain at sunrise and moving it to his yard for a party. I called him—no answer. We watched him show off the grill, even decorating it with a tablecloth. Then, the cloth caught fire, igniting his patio. Guests scattered, and firefighters couldn’t save his yard—or our grill. We were furious but couldn’t help chuckling at the irony.
Insurance replaced our grill with a better model, thanks to the footage. Greg’s yard stayed ruined, and he avoided us after we returned. His insurance didn’t cover his mistake, proving that taking what’s not yours comes with a price.