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My Son Built Snowmen All Winter. Our Neighbor Kept Destroying Them Until a Child’s Quiet Lesson Changed Everything
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I knew exactly what he meant.
That detail landed hard. This wasn’t an accident. It wasn’t a mistake. It was a choice.
I hugged Nick while staring out the window at the broken sticks and scarf lying in the snow. It felt like proof of something uglier than a simple misunderstanding.
Asking Nicely Didn’t Work
The next evening, I saw Mr. Streeter outside and decided to speak up calmly.
“Could you please stop driving over that part of the yard?” I asked. “My son builds snowmen there, and it really upsets him.”
He glanced at the crushed remains and shrugged.
“It’s just snow,” he said. “Tell your kid not to build where cars go.”
