When I first stumbled onto a story about a St. Louis Park dispute between neighbors over a basketball hoop, I thought it was a joke.

Then I read the GoFundMe post by Lilly Moeding, who says her family allegedly has been harassed and even sued by a neighbor who wants to stop her kids … from playing basketball.

"My name is Lilly Moeding, and I'm a mom to two boys, ages 9 and 12. Our boys love basketball — cheering for the Timberwolves, playing for the Minneapolis Lakers, and especially enjoying time together shooting hoops in our driveway," the post says.

"What started as a way to keep our boys active, healthy, and happy has unfortunately become the subject of an ongoing legal dispute with our new neighbors, one that has been extremely difficult for our family. About a year ago, after our neighbors purchased the home next door, they raised concerns about the location of our basketball hoop. Although the hoop had been installed before they moved in, we discovered it was placed about six inches too close to the property line — something we had not realized.

"As soon as we were made aware, we worked with the city's zoning board to relocate the hoop to an approved location. The neighbors appealed the zoning board's decision, and later the city council's decision as well. Both appeals were denied. Despite these clear decisions in our favor, the dispute has continued."

According to the post, the neighbors are lawyers who've forced the family into an expensive legal dispute. They've even filed a restraining order against the family because Moeding's husband had to retrieve a basketball on their property. They've also filed a temporary injunction to prevent her kids from using the hoop over the summer. And they've initiated a lawsuit against the family and the city.

Damn. Lighten up, neighbor.

While this is an extreme case of a specific neighbor allegedly launching an expensive legal battle over a basketball hoop, it also speaks to a larger community issue: Too many of us have become the adults we resented when we were kids.

People over 35 — especially in the Midwest — love to tell war stories about their childhoods. We had a freedom our children no longer enjoy.

Growing up in Milwaukee, I lived through hot summer days with a basketball, football or baseball in my hands. My neighbors didn't have their yards fenced so we used their grass as our own football and baseball fields.

To be honest, I hit more foul balls than home runs. I could never figure out the timing in baseball the way I did in other sports.

One afternoon, I sliced a fastball and hit the side of my neighbor's house. It wasn't an unusual event. We hit a lot of baseballs into the side of his house. On that day, however, he stormed through the back door. He was furious.

"Listen, kids!" he said. "You all are going to pound out every single dent you put in the side of this house this summer."

The truth? He was right.

But he also never followed through. We kept playing back there and, from time to time, he'd give us sodas and snacks.

Although he had a real gripe with us, he also understood we meant no harm. We just wanted to have fun and get out of the house.

And that's what those boys in St. Louis Park want, too. You think a kid knows anything about zoning laws or property disputes? Nah, they just want to play ball. It appears that some disgruntled neighbors aim to prevent that from happening, not just because of legal concerns but perhaps because they've forgotten about the joy they once had when they were that same age.

I do not know how our children can trust us while they can also see our collective hypocrisy. We blame them for staying inside too often and living their lives through a phone, a tablet or a computer. They play video games for hours and seem less interested in exploring the neighborhood compared to my generation. They also post constantly on social media and live off YouTube videos and an occasional snack.

Yet, a multitude of rec centers have closed. There are no arcades. There are only a handful of roller-skating rinks left, too. Couple of bowling alleys still remain, but they're usually not within walking distance. And when our kids hit the mall, they're met by security personnel and gates that restrict where they can go. And there are parks that have removed hoops to prevent them from gathering together and having all of that fun we once had, too.

So what the hell do we expect them to do all summer?

Sure, this is a lawsuit about a specific disagreement between a pair of neighbors in St. Louis Park. But it's more than that.

It's an extension of our collective choice to prevent our kids from living free from the burdens of adulthood.

I don't know how it all happened, but over time, a bunch of us decided to act like the same folks who made us feel like we couldn't do the things we wanted to do as kids. For all of us, it's an ongoing fight to provide structure, discipline and stability for this generation while also encouraging and supporting their adventures.

But there is another issue at play, both in the St. Louis Park dispute and in others like it: Too many of us have become boring adults.

Let's hope our children don't follow our lead.