My neighbor let her dog use my lawn as a toilet every morning for six months and never cleaned up once — I stayed polite until she made one comment I couldn’t forget, and by the next morning I’d taught her a lesson without raising my voice once.

“Yes.”

“Then why can’t he use it?”

I chose my words carefully.

“Because sometimes something we like still belongs to someone else.”

Oliver frowned.

“Like another kid’s toy?”

“Sort of. Except what she was taking wasn’t really the lawn. It was the time someone else had to spend cleaning it.”

He stared at me.

“You were cleaning up after Winston?”

“Yes.”

“Every day?”

“Almost.”

“For how long?”

“Six months.”

Oliver looked genuinely horrified.

“Mom, why didn’t you just tell her?”

I opened my mouth.

Then stopped.

Because he was right.