There’s someone at Robb Bunnen’s front door asking to use the bathroom. Again.

Living in Montgomery County’s affluent Kenwood neighborhood means a few things. Streets studded with stunning, multimillion-dollar homes. Easy access to the heart of Bethesda and the nation’s capital. And the annual flowering of its 1,200 or so Yoshino cherry blossom trees.

It also means, when thousands of people visit every year around peak bloom, you’re going to come across a few who make themselves a little too at home.

“It’s kind of amusing. I love it,” Bunnen said of the presumptuous cherry blossom fans, many of whom prefer quiet Kenwood to the more famous collection of trees around the Tidal Basin by the Jefferson Memorial in Washington.

He and his family, who have lived in Kenwood for 33 years, have seen tourists set up picnics on their lawn, position themselves on their property to snap photos and, most years, ask to use the facilities.

“I love that they feel like they’re a part of it. You just accommodate,” Bunnen said, adding that he’d prefer no one else come knocking.

Other Kenwood residents express a similar mix of tolerance and annoyance. In general, most visitors try to be respectful, they say, and understand Kenwood is first of all a neighborhood.

When Bob Bein and his wife moved to the enclave from New York City four decades ago, they had no idea the community they had chosen for its proximity to D.C. also came with an unofficial cherry blossom festival.

“That was quite a wonderful surprise,” said Bein, who runs the Kenwood Citizens Association website.

The KCA has strict rules for cherry blossom season: no picking flowers, climbing trees, driving fast or parking where they see hot pink “NO PARKING” signs.

The organization also hires off-duty Montgomery County Police officers on the busiest weekends to prevent traffic jams along its narrow streets.

Bein worries that those who ignore the “no parking” signs may block emergency vehicles that need to get through.

“I understand that people want to stop and take pictures and so on, but too often they’re not considering the other people who are walking around and driving,” he said.

When Bunnen’s now-adult children were younger, they set up “some of the greatest lemonade stands in the history of America” on peak bloom weekends, he joked.

That lemonade stand tradition continued Thursday, when neighborhood kids set up shop in their front yard as other visitors spread out picnic blankets, strolled around in pink clothing and carried bulky tripods to snap family photos.

“We pride ourselves on having one of the great spectacles in all of D.C. It’s pretty cool,” Bunnen said. “I feel lucky to be here.”