My Neighbor Threw Eggs at My Car Because It Was Blocking the View of His Halloween Decorations
Sleep-deprived mom Genevieve stumbles upon her car covered in eggs one morning. Assuming it’s a prank, she’s shocked to find that her neighbor, Brad, actually did it. His reason? Her car was “ruining the view” of his elaborate Halloween display. Too exhausted to argue, Genevieve walks away but decides Brad needs a lesson.
Since the twins arrived, her days blurred together, surviving on little sleep while juggling two newborns. Halloween was on the horizon, and her suburb buzzed with excitement—but Genevieve barely had energy to think about decorations.
Brad, her neighbor, was a Halloween enthusiast. Every year, his house transformed into a haunted carnival, complete with gravestones, jack-o’-lanterns, skeleton dioramas, and dramatic lighting. He basked in compliments from the entire neighborhood, his smugness only rivaled by the scale of his spooky production. Meanwhile, Genevieve couldn’t care less about his over-the-top theatrics; keeping her eyes open was challenging enough.
One chilly October morning, she shuffled outside with Lily and Lucas in her arms, only to find her car egged. The goo and broken shells smeared across her windshield were the last straw. She suspected Brad immediately since her car was parked near his house the night before to avoid hauling the twins’ stroller from far down the street. Genevieve’s suspicion turned to certainty as she noticed egg splatters reaching all the way to Brad’s yard.
Fed up, she stormed over and confronted him. Brad opened the door with a smug grin, openly admitting he’d egged her car to clear the view for his Halloween display. His casual arrogance ignited her fury, but exhaustion kept her from fully lashing out. She retreated, frustrated and humiliated.
Later, as she washed off the egg, a brilliant idea hit her. She’d let Brad’s vanity do the work. The next day, she casually suggested he add high-tech equipment to his display, name-dropping the worst brands she could find. His eyes lit up with excitement, and she left with a small, satisfied grin.
Halloween night arrived, and Brad’s yard was packed with onlookers. His grand display looked impressive—until the equipment she’d suggested backfired spectacularly. The fog machine erupted like a garden hose, drenching the yard instead of creating a mist. Then, his prized ghost projector malfunctioned, casting a jittery, cartoonish ghoul that had children giggling. Finally, his giant Frankenstein inflatable collapsed, sparking a fit of teenage mischief as kids hurled eggs at his haunted display.
The next morning, Brad, a shadow of his usual self, knocked on her door, apologizing for his actions. Humbled, he admitted he’d overreacted. With arms crossed, Genevieve accepted the apology, savoring the moment. For once, Brad had nothing to say, and with a slight smile, Genevieve closed the door on her lesson well-taught.