This winter, my eight-year-old son became obsessed with building snowmen in the same corner of our front yard. Our grumpy neighbor kept driving over them with his car, no matter how many times I asked him to stop. I thought it was just a petty, frustrating neighbor issue—until my kid quietly told me he had a plan to make it end.

I’m 35, my son Nick is eight, and this winter our entire neighborhood learned a very loud lesson about boundaries.

Every day after school, Nick would burst through the door, cheeks pink, eyes bright.

“Can I go out now, Mom? Please? I gotta finish Winston.”

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