My Neighbor Mocked Me For Installing Cameras. Then I Showed Him The Footage Of His Wife On My Porch At 2 AM

Last week, I mounted two small cameras on my porch after a run of odd, late-night visits on our street. Greg, my neighbor, mocked me every chance he got, while Dana told me to let the footage speak. I kept quiet, saved everything, and waited for the right time. By morning, I had what I needed. I invited Greg over, and Lacey hovered near their fence, pretending not to listen. I set my tablet on the table, took a breath, and pressed play. Greg smirked, then froze. The next frame wiped the smile off his face, and Officer Hughes would soon hear why.

I kept the delivery receipts in a drawer and marked dates with a red pen. Three separate drop-offs never made it past my steps, and the drivers confirmed they left them by the mat. I bought two porch cameras that afternoon and carried a ladder out to the front walk. One unit faced the entryway, the other covered the driveway and gate. I decided to stop talking about it and start recording what actually happened.

Greg leaned on his car and watched me set the first mount. He shook his head and told me the neighborhood didn’t need this kind of attention. He laughed about raccoons and porch goblins while I tightened the bracket. I kept my hands steady and asked him to pass the screws. He called the setup overkill, then smiled for the lens like he was in on a joke.

Dana came out with the small toolbox and balanced the ladder while I lined up the second camera. We aimed it just above the mailbox so the lens could catch deliveries and anyone stepping off the sidewalk. She held the level and told me to nudge the mount left a hair. I drilled, set the anchors, and clicked the housing into place. The angle covered the entry, the steps, and the edge of Greg’s front yard.

I labeled each feed inside the app and named the files by address and camera position. The timestamps matched across both views after a quick sync with the router clock. I switched storage from the SD cards to a secured network drive in the hall closet. Dana read off the Wi‑Fi password while I finished the setup. When I checked the dashboard, both cameras showed green lights and healthy connections.

By dusk, the porch light clicked on and gave the steps a steady glow. I walked up and down with a cap pulled low to test motion ranges. The alerts pinged my phone without delays, and night vision stayed clear across the mat and planter. Dana stood by the gate and called out blind spots, then we adjusted the tilt a notch. We finished by recording a short test clip and saving it to the drive.

Smoke drifted from Greg’s grill while he tossed burgers and eyed our porch like it owed him a show. He cracked another joke about surveillance and waved his spatula at the camera. Lacey set plates on their patio table and told him to give it a rest. I checked the phone screen and confirmed the feed looked fine from the sidewalk. Dana shrugged and said we’d be done soon, then carried the spare mounts inside.

I stood in the yard and shifted the front camera toward the delivery drop spot near the mat. A small tweak hid the glare from the porch light and opened the view of the steps. Greg called out a reminder about the sprinkler schedule, and I waved without looking up. The bracket tightened with a clean click, and the image sharpened. I took one more still so I could compare angles later and moved the ladder back.

Dana rolled the ladder to the garage and coiled the extension cords one by one. She slid the toolbox onto the shelf and wiped dust from the handle. I checked the cable ties along the porch rail and tucked the last wire behind the trim. We cleared the walkway so deliveries wouldn’t snag on anything. Before going inside, I locked the side gate and made sure the hinges wouldn’t rattle against the post tonight.