I approached Mark, expecting he would be more understanding. But he, too, was unwavering, putting Susan’s comfort ahead of our discomfort. “These lights make her feel secure, and that’s what matters,” I heard him say.

As the sleepless evenings drew on, I became increasingly frustrated. I even joked about taking dramatic steps, such as unscrewing the bulbs or using a pellet gun to remove them. But Gia reminded me that escalating the situation was not the solution.

Then one day, Gia gave me an idea. She and Susan were going to be gone for a bit, so I had an hour to do something safe and unobtrusive. So I got the ladder, sneaked over to the Thompsons’ house, and gradually loosened the lights until they flickered and went out.

That evening, the lights flickered and went, and for the first time in weeks, we had a quiet, dark night. The Thompsons didn’t appear to notice the next morning, which surprised me. After months of turning out the lights, we were finally able to sleep.

But then, one day, I observed Mark outdoors, tightening the bulbs. That night, the lights went back on, brighter than before. Frustrated but undeterred, I tried my trick again, and the lights went off. This back-and-forth went on for over a year—Mark tightened the bulbs, and I loosen them again.

One Saturday morning, as I was pruning the hedges, Mark casually addressed the problem. He was perplexed by the lights frequently going out and the bulbs loosening, but I kept things cool, speculating that the vibrations from the street traffic could be the culprit.

Surprisingly, Mark agreed with my explanation and ultimately determined that the lights were not worth the bother. He thanked me for the suggestion, and we went back to enjoying our quiet, pitch-black nights.

In the end, our nuanced approach enabled us to fix the problem without incurring any ill will. Sometimes a little imagination and patience are all that is required to keep the peace while receiving what you need.