Our House Was Egged on Christmas — And It Wasn’t a Stranger Who Did It

When Ellie’s family returned from their Christmas vacation, they were shocked to find their house covered in eggs and a mysterious note. Determined to find the culprit, Ellie reviewed security footage and was stunned to discover it was someone very close to her. The confrontation revealed years of pain and manipulation, threatening to ruin their bond. Could Ellie mend things?

Christmas has always been a time for family. For the past four years, my husband Ethan, our seven-year-old daughter Maddie, our five-year-old son Noah, and I had made it a tradition to escape to the islands.

Just the four of us, enjoying the sun and recharging before the whirlwind of holiday dinners and obligations.

This year felt no different — until we got home.

When we pulled into the driveway, I froze.

Our house looked like it had been attacked. Raw eggs dripped down the walls, the porch was covered with broken shells, and the holiday wreath I’d made was ruined, a smelly mess.

“What on earth?” Ethan muttered as he stepped out of the car, with Noah following.

“Mom, what happened?” Maddie asked from the backseat.

“I don’t know, sweetheart,” I said, trying to stay calm, but inside, I was furious.

Noah crouched near the mess. “Could a bird have done this, Dad?” he asked.

I clenched my fists, my mind racing. Who would do this?

We were good neighbors — great neighbors! I baked cookies for everyone, helped with block parties, and always lent a hand. This wasn’t random; it felt targeted.

Then Ethan found a crumpled note tucked under the doorframe. He handed it to me.

It read: This is for what you took from me before Christmas.

I stared at the words. What had I taken? And from who?

That night, after the kids were in bed, Ethan and I checked the security footage. My stomach churned as I watched.

The camera showed a hooded figure walking up our driveway with cartons of eggs. Each throw was deliberate, almost practiced. This wasn’t a prank — it was personal.

“This is ridiculous,” Ethan said. “Who even does this anymore? This is childish.”

But something about the figure made me pause. The way they moved, how their shoulders slumped. My breath caught in my throat.

“No,” I whispered, shaking my head. “It can’t be.”

But it was. The person throwing eggs at our home was my mother.

The next morning, I left Ethan with the kids and drove to my mom’s house. My hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as anger bubbled inside me.

When she opened the door, her usual warm smile greeted me.

“Ellie! What a surprise!”

“Why?” I asked, skipping the pleasantries. “Why would you do that to us?”

Her smile faltered. “What are you talking about?” she asked, her voice unsteady.

“Don’t deny it, Mom,” I said firmly. “I know it was you.”

Her expression shifted, guilt clouding her face. “Come inside,” she said softly.

I refused to sit down. “Just explain yourself, Mom. Why did you egg my house?”

“It was because of your mother-in-law,” she finally admitted, her voice shaking.

“What does Gloria have to do with this?” I asked, confused.

“She called me,” my mom snapped. “Right before Christmas. She told me how you invited her on your vacation, how special she felt, how much time she got with the kids. And me? I was left behind, alone, in the cold.”

I stared at her, stunned.

“Mom,” I said softly, “we didn’t take Gloria. She wasn’t on the trip. That’s not true.”

Her eyes widened in shock. “Then why would she say that?”

“To hurt you,” I said gently. “To make you feel this way. To cause problems between us. Why would I take Gloria and not you?”

She sank into a chair, covering her face with her hands.

“I was so angry, Ellie. I felt invisible, like I didn’t matter to you anymore. And I just… lost control.”

Her words stung because, deep down, I knew she wasn’t entirely wrong.

Life had been so busy — raising two young kids, working full-time, and keeping up with everything else — that I hadn’t realized how isolated my mom had become.

The signs were there: the hesitation in her voice during calls, her absence from our house, and how she stopped bringing over baked treats unannounced. I’d let her drift away without meaning to.

“Mom,” I said, sitting beside her, “what you did was wrong. But I understand why you felt hurt. And I’m sorry for making you feel left out.”

Her face crumpled.

“I’m so sorry, Ellie,” she said through tears. “I’ll pay for the cleaning, I’ll fix everything.”

“No,” I said. “We’ll clean it up together. But let’s fix us first. No more games, no more letting other people’s words ruin our relationship.”

She nodded, relief washing over her. We hugged, and for the first time in years, it felt like the walls between us were coming down.

That afternoon, she came over with a bucket of soapy water. Together, we scrubbed the egg off the walls, the porch, and the windows.

It was messy, exhausting work, but with each streak we wiped away, it felt like we were also wiping away years of tension.

Later that night, I told Ethan what happened.

“Your mom caused this whole thing,” I said. “She lied to mine about the vacation. I think it’s time you have a talk with her.”

Ethan shook his head. “She really did that? What was she thinking?”

“I don’t know,” I replied, “but I need to focus on my mom right now. She’s been feeling abandoned for years. Gloria is your responsibility.”

Ethan nodded. “I’ll call her.”

The next day, Ethan confronted his mother. She admitted to the lie, saying she felt lonely during the holidays and wanted attention.

“Why didn’t you just spend time with my mom instead?” I asked when Ethan told me what she said.

“I wasn’t thinking,” Gloria had replied, her voice heavy with regret.

Eventually, Gloria reached out to my mom. They started spending time together, baking and playing games. Slowly, they repaired their relationship.

As for me, I’ve grown closer to my mom. We’re rebuilding what we lost, one step at a time.

And for the record, I can’t stand the sight of eggs anymore.