My Neighbor Refused to Carpool My Daughter Claiming She Had No Space in the Car — So I Taught Her a Harsh Lesson

I used to think I was someone who could just go with the flow—avoid drama and keep things pleasant. But that all changed the morning Karen knocked on my door.

“Lena, hey! Sorry to bother you so early,” Karen said with her overly sweet smile. I was still in my pajamas, sipping coffee while my daughter, Sophie, got ready for school.

“No bother at all, Karen,” I replied, opening the door wider. “What’s up?”

A text from Karen buzzed in: *Can you take Emily today?* I was already frazzled and the thought of adding another kid to the mix was overwhelming. So, I texted back: *Actually, I’m running late today. Can you take Sophie?*

Karen’s reply came almost immediately: *Sorry, the car’s too full today.* I blinked at the screen. Karen drove a massive SUV, and all she transported was Emily. Her excuse didn’t add up. It was clear she’d been taking advantage of me.

I wanted to confront her but decided to stay calm. Instead, I got Sophie ready, took her to school, and spent the day fuming.

The next morning, I received another text from Karen: *Can you take Emily again today?* I could practically see her smug smile. Determined to teach her a lesson, I agreed with a plan in mind.

“Hey, Sophie, how about a stop at Rosie’s Donuts on the way to school?” I called up the stairs. Sophie’s excitement was palpable as she came bounding down.

“Really? On a school day?” she asked.

“Yep. Special Friday treat,” I said.

When we picked up Emily, Karen greeted us with a bright smile. “Thanks again for doing this. You’re such a lifesaver.”

“No problem,” I replied with a forced cheerfulness.

As I drove, I took a detour to Rosie’s Donuts. Emily noticed immediately. “Miss Richards, aren’t we supposed to go that way?”

“We’re stopping for donuts,” I said with a wink.

By the time we left Rosie’s, we were running late. The school parking lot was nearly empty when we arrived, and I felt a twinge of guilt, though it was overshadowed by the satisfaction of knowing Karen was probably fuming.

When I returned home, Karen was waiting on her porch, visibly angry. “Lena, what happened? Emily was late for school! I thought you were dropping them off on time!”

I maintained my innocence. “Oh, Karen, I’m so sorry! But you know how it is.”

Her eyes flashed with anger. “I see. Well, try not to let it happen again.”

“Or maybe you could take Emily yourself?” I suggested. Karen didn’t respond. She turned and slammed the door behind her.

I felt a wave of triumph. Karen never asked me to take Emily to school again. She started handling the drive herself and avoided me whenever possible. She’d learned her lesson, and I’d learned mine too. Being a good neighbor doesn’t mean being a doormat. Sometimes, standing up for yourself requires taking the scenic route.

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