Our House Was Egged on Christmas — And I Was Shocked to Discover Who Did It

For our family, Christmas had always been about togetherness. That’s why we cherished our annual tradition of escaping to the islands—just the four of us—to enjoy the sun before the holiday madness. This year felt no different. Or so I thought.

When we returned home, I froze.

Our house looked like a disaster zone. Raw eggs were dripping from the walls, broken shells were scattered all over the porch, and even our holiday wreath had been destroyed. The kids were speechless, my husband mumbled under his breath, and my chest tightened in disbelief.

Who would do this?
I prided myself on being a good neighbor—baking cookies for new families, helping at block parties. This didn’t feel random. It felt personal.

Then we found the note shoved under our front door:
“THIS IS FOR WHAT YOU TOOK FROM ME BEFORE CHRISTMAS!”

The words stung like a slap in the face. What had I taken? And from whom?

That night, I checked the security footage. The video showed a hooded figure hurling eggs with careful, deliberate movements. My stomach turned. This wasn’t a prank—this was revenge.

I was already dialing the police when I paused the footage and zoomed in. Something about the way the figure moved—the tilt of their head, the posture—froze me.

“It can’t be…” I whispered.

But it was.

The person vandalizing our home… was my mother.

The next morning, I left Ethan with the kids and drove straight to her house. When she opened the door, I confronted her:

— “Why would you do that to us? Don’t even try to deny it, Mom. I saw everything.”

She sighed deeply.

— “It was because of your mother-in-law, Gloria,” she said tightly.

— “Gloria? What does she have to do with this?”

— “She called me, Eleanor. Right before Christmas. She told me all about your precious island vacation. How included she felt, how special. She said she got to spend quality time with the kids. And me? I was just left here. Alone. Forgotten.”

I stared at her, stunned.

— “Mom… Gloria didn’t come with us. That’s not true. She wasn’t on the trip, I promise.”

Her eyes widened.

— “But then… why would she say that?”

— “To hurt you,” I said gently. “To make you feel like this. To drive a wedge between us. Why on earth would I take Gloria and not my own mother?”

She covered her face with her hands, trembling.

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

Her words cut deep—because she wasn’t completely wrong.

The truth was, I had let her drift to the sidelines of our lives. I loved her deeply, but between raising two kids, a full-time job, and life’s constant chaos, I hadn’t realized how isolated she’d become.

The signs had been there—her distant tone on the phone, how she’d stopped dropping by with her homemade treats.

I sat beside her and took her hand.

— “What you did was wrong, Mom. But I understand why you were hurt. And I’m sorry if I made you feel left out. Life got away from me.”

— “I’m so sorry, Ellie,” she cried. “I’ll fix it! I’ll pay for the cleaning—I’ll do anything!”

— “We’ll clean it up, Mom. Together. But first, we need to fix us. No more games. No more letting other people twist how we feel. Okay?”

She nodded through her tears. We hugged—and for the first time in years, it felt like the walls between us were coming down.

That afternoon, we scrubbed the eggs off the porch, the windows, the walls—side by side.

That night, Ethan and I made grilled cheese sandwiches for the kids, tucked them into bed, and poured ourselves a glass of wine.

— “Babe,” I said, “it was your mom who started all this. Gloria called my mom and told her she was on vacation with us. She made it sound so real… and my mom broke.”

Ethan shook his head.

— “You’ve got to be kidding. She really said that? What was she thinking?”

— “I don’t know, but you need to talk to her. I have to focus on my mom right now. She’s been feeling abandoned for years. This was just the breaking point. I’m sorry, but Gloria’s your responsibility.”

— “I’ll call her,” Ethan said firmly. “She’s going to tell me the truth.”

He went to the bedroom to call his mother, and I called mine again.

— “Mom, how about you come celebrate New Year’s Eve with us? Just a cozy night at home. Good food, good company. What do you say?”

— “You mean it?”

— “I do, Mom. It’s time.”

On New Year’s Eve, she came over. At midnight, as fireworks lit up the sky, we raised our glasses together.

— “To new beginnings,” my mother said softly.

I looked around—my happy, sleepy kids, Ethan’s arm around me, and my mother glowing with joy.

Something had shifted.

A week later, Ethan and I met Gloria for coffee.

— “Mom,” Ethan began, “explain yourself. And be honest. No more lies.”

Gloria stirred her coffee in silence.

— “I lied to your mother because I felt left out. I don’t know why I did it. The holidays are hard… being a widow, being alone. I was hurt.”

I spoke up.

— “Why didn’t you just go visit her? You were both lonely. You could have spent time together. Baked, watched movies, talked for hours…”

— “I wasn’t thinking,” she said, her voice cracking. “If I could take it all back, I would.”

We sat in silence.

— “So now what?” Ethan asked.

— “Now I’m going to call Irene. I’ll make it right. I’ll invite her over for tea, and we’ll start fresh. Just wait and see.”

— “I hope so, Gloria,” I said firmly. “Because I won’t let the kids be caught in the middle of something like this again.”

— “And you shouldn’t!” she said. “I’ll fix it, Ellie. I promise.”

And she did.
Now, our moms are close friends. They bake together every weekend and play mahjong like teenagers.

And for the record?
I can’t stand the sight of eggs anymore. 🥚😅