My packages kept vanishing, and my sweet neighbor Linda always seemed to “find” them. I tried to be patient, but when my limited-edition Christmas ornament went missing, I’d had enough. So, I left her a special holiday gift she’d never forget.

There’s something infuriating about seeing your name on a package and realizing someone else opened it. But when it happens over and over? You start plotting.

I moved to this neighborhood for peace, not package wars. But thanks to Linda, that’s exactly what I got.

When I moved into this neighborhood three months ago, I thought it was the fresh start I needed. My eight-year-old son Mike and I had been through a lot.

Parting ways with my husband had been hard, but that’s a story for another time.

We found a cozy little house on a quiet street, not too far from a park. It was peaceful, safe, and perfect for us.

Every morning, Mike and I would walk to the park, enjoying the crisp air and the friendly atmosphere. I remember thinking, This is it. This is where we’ll finally be happy.

And we were. For a while.

The house was great, the neighbors seemed nice, and life was starting to feel normal again. Until I met Linda.

Linda lives next door, and she seemed lovely at first. The day we moved in, she was at my doorstep with a tray of cookies and that big, neighborly smile you see in holiday commercials.

“Welcome to the neighborhood!” she chirped. “I’m Linda, from next door. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Thank you so much!” I said, genuinely touched by her warmth. “It’s been a crazy week, but we’re finally settling in.”

Linda beamed. “Moving is always stressful, but you’ll love it here. And if you ever need a hand, I’m just a knock away.”

She was chatty and sweet, and I appreciated having someone to talk to in those first few days. She even offered to keep an eye on the house when I was out.

“You know, packages can go missing if they sit out too long,” she mentioned casually. “I’m happy to grab them for you if I see anything on your porch.”

It sounded like a thoughtful gesture at the time.

At first, everything seemed normal. But then things got weird.

It started with a missing package. An educational toy I’d ordered for Mike. I remember coming home from work and not seeing it on the porch, even though the delivery confirmation said it had been delivered.

Maybe it got delayed, I thought.

But when it didn’t show up the next day, I decided to ask Linda if she’d seen anything.

“Hey, Linda,” I said, knocking on her door.

She answered with that same wide smile. “Meredith! How are you?”

“I’m good,” I said, a little sheepishly. “I’m wondering, uh, did you happen to see a package on my porch yesterday? It was a toy for Mike, and it’s gone missing.”

Linda’s expression didn’t falter.

“Oh! That? I think the delivery guy must’ve mixed things up and left it at my door by mistake.” She stepped back into the house and returned with my package.

It was OPENED.

“I just opened it and was wondering who it might be for,” she said with a light laugh, handing it to me.

I stared at her, confused. The package had my name and address clearly printed on it. There was no way she didn’t know it wasn’t hers.

“Thanks,” I said, forcing a smile. “Next time, feel free to just leave it on my porch.”

“Oh, of course!” she chirped. “I’m always happy to help.”

I walked away, trying to shake off the weird feeling. But deep down, something wasn’t sitting right.

And then it happened again.

And again.

Each time, Linda would return my packages opened, with the same innocent giggle and excuse, “Oh, sweetie, I thought it was mine!”

At first, I tried to give her the benefit of the doubt. But after the third time? I knew better. Linda wasn’t confused. She was stealing them.

Initially, the packages she took were small. It was annoying, but not something that would make me completely lose it.

But then, bigger and more expensive items started disappearing.

The first major one was a pair of boots I’d ordered. I was beyond excited about them. Winter was creeping in, and I’d been saving up for weeks to get myself something nice.

When the tracking app showed them as delivered, I rushed home from work, only to find… nothing.

I knew where to go.

Taking a deep breath, I knocked on Linda’s door. This time, I wasn’t going to be so polite.

“Hey, Meredith!” she greeted me with her usual bubbly smile. “What can I do for you?”

“Hi, Linda. I’m just wondering… did you see another package on my porch today? A box with boots?”

Linda tilted her head like she was deep in thought. “Hmm… Let me check!”

She disappeared inside, and I could hear her rummaging around. A few minutes later, she reappeared, holding my box.

Of course, it was already opened.

“I didn’t realize this wasn’t for me!” she said with a giggle. “I thought it was that jacket I ordered.”

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm.

“Right,” I nodded. “Well, thanks for bringing it back.”

“Oh, no problem, sweetie! You know, these delivery guys really need to be more careful. They mix things up all the time!”

I walked away, fuming. At this point, it was obvious she was lying. She knew what she was doing. And she didn’t care.

But the final straw came a few days before Christmas.

I’d ordered a limited-edition ornament for my mom. She collects Christmas ornaments, and this one was special. It was hand-painted and hard to find. When the tracking said it had been delivered, I rushed home, excited to wrap it up and surprise her.

But the porch was empty.

Furious, I checked the tracking details again. Delivered to front porch at 12:34 p.m. I was home by 1:00.

There was no way it could’ve disappeared that fast.

I stormed over to Linda’s house, not bothering to hide my frustration.

She opened the door, smiling as if nothing was wrong. “Oh, hi there! Can I help you?”

“Have you seen a package for me today?” I asked, struggling to keep my voice calm.

Linda feigned confusion for a moment. “Oh! Let me check.”

She returned with the box in hand, already opened. The ornament inside was unwrapped, as if she’d been admiring it.

“I didn’t realize this wasn’t for me!” she giggled.

That was it. Her smug little smile told me she wasn’t sorry at all.

I decided right then and there.

If Linda loved stealing my packages, I’d give her one she’d never forget.

Linda had crossed the line one too many times. It was time to teach her a lesson.

So, I came up with the perfect plan. A glitter bomb.

After putting Mike to bed one night, I sat at my laptop and ordered a spring-loaded glitter bomb kit. Ironically, it was one of the few packages Linda hadn’t intercepted.

When it arrived, I couldn’t stop grinning as I put it together.

The kit came with a spring mechanism that would shoot glitter everywhere the moment the box was opened.

And to add a personal touch, I included a note inside that read, “If you’re reading this, you’re a thief. Next time, I’ll call the police. Happy holidays!”

To make the package look even more enticing, I wrapped it in festive paper and wrote my name and address clearly on the front. Then, I placed it on my porch in plain view.

Now, all I had to do was wait.

Sure enough, it didn’t take long.

A few hours later, I spotted Linda casually strolling down the street, pretending to admire the Christmas lights. She slowed down as she passed my house, glanced around to make sure no one was watching, and then swiped the package.

I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. Gotcha.

The next morning, I woke up to the sound of screaming.

I peeked out my window and nearly burst out laughing.

She was furiously shaking the box, trying to get the glitter off, but it was no use. Glitter sticks to everything.

Moments later, she stormed over to my house, clutching the box like it was a live grenade.

“HOW DARE YOU!” she yelled, pounding on my door.

I opened it with my sweetest smile. “Oh, Linda! Did you accidentally take my package again?”

“You think this is funny?” she spat, shaking the glitter-covered box at me.

I crossed my arms. “Funny? No. Satisfying? Absolutely.”

She stammered, clearly struggling to come up with an excuse. But I didn’t give her the chance.

“You know, Linda, if you don’t want surprises like this, maybe you should stop stealing my packages,” I said, keeping my tone calm and pleasant. “Consider this a holiday warning. Next time, I will call the police.”

She wanted to say something, but nothing came out of her mouth. Finally, she turned on her heel and stormed back to her house.

Word spread quickly around the neighborhood.

Turns out, I wasn’t the only one Linda had been targeting. Several other neighbors came forward, sharing similar stories of “lost packages” that magically reappeared after they confronted her.

Some of them had been too polite or nervous to call her out, but after my glitter stunt, they felt emboldened.

Linda tried to keep a low profile after that. For the rest of the holiday season, she barely left her house. And every time she did, I could still see little flecks of glitter in her hair, no matter how hard she tried to wash it out.

As for me? I haven’t had a single package go missing since.

Sometimes, a little sparkle is all it takes to set things right. Happy holidays indeed.