Halloween brings out the spookiness in people, but for me, it brought out a neighbor’s shocking reaction. You won’t believe why my neighbor egged my car.
The Struggles of a New Mom
As a new mother to twins, I was living in a constant state of exhaustion. My days were a blur of diaper changes, feeding schedules, and sleepless nights. I was so tired that even small things, like brushing my teeth or feeding the dog, felt overwhelming.
So, when I stepped outside one morning and saw my car covered in eggs, I was beyond frustrated. At first, I thought it was a random Halloween prank. After all, Halloween was approaching, and kids often get a little too excited. I sighed, grabbed a sponge and bucket, and prepared to clean up the mess.
A Shocking Confession
As I started scrubbing, my neighbor, Brad, approached me with an unapologetic look. “That was me,” he said, almost proudly. “Your car was ruining the view of my Halloween decorations.”
I blinked, barely processing his words. My car was “ruining the view”? For what—his tacky display of plastic skeletons and oversized pumpkins? I was too tired to argue but made a mental note that Brad would soon regret messing with me.
Brad’s Halloween Obsession
Brad loved Halloween more than anyone I’d ever met. Every October, he transformed his house into a haunted attraction, complete with gravestones, skeletons, and elaborate decor. The whole neighborhood loved his setup, but I was too tired to care. With two newborns, I could barely think about Halloween, let alone get into the festive spirit.
The Egging Incident
One October morning, as I walked outside with my twins, I noticed my car completely covered in eggs. The mess was unmistakable—eggshells and goo dripped down the windshield like a disgusting breakfast gone wrong. I parked in front of Brad’s house the night before, closer to my door, to make it easier with the twins.
Furious, I marched over to Brad’s house and knocked on his door. When he answered with a smug expression, I didn’t waste any time. “Did you egg my car?”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “Your car was blocking the view of my decorations. How can people see my setup with your car in the way?”
The Final Straw
I was speechless. Here I was, barely holding myself together with two newborns, and he was talking about ruining his Halloween “vibe”? I snapped back, explaining why I parked there, but he only shrugged. He suggested I park elsewhere until Halloween was over.
At that moment, I realized Brad was more than just an annoying neighbor—he was a bully. I had had enough. If he wanted to play dirty, I could play smarter.
Plotting My Revenge
Later that night, while rocking my baby to sleep, a plan started forming. Brad’s pride in his Halloween setup was his weakness. He needed his haunted house to be the best. Revenge felt right, and it didn’t require a loud confrontation.
The next day, I casually strolled over to Brad’s yard, pretending to admire his decorations. “Hey, Brad,” I said, sounding overly cheerful. “Your setup is great, but have you considered upgrading with fog machines or ghost projectors? That would really wow the neighborhood.”
Brad’s eyes lit up with interest. I suggested brands with terrible reviews, knowing they would fail at just the right moment. He seemed thrilled by the idea, already planning his next move.
Halloween Night: The Ultimate Backfire
When Halloween night arrived, Brad’s house looked like a haunted masterpiece. Crowds gathered to see his display, and Brad was basking in the attention—until things started to go wrong.
As expected, his fog machine sputtered, spraying water instead of fog. The crowd laughed, and Brad rushed to fix it, only for his ghost projector to malfunction and show strange, blobby images instead of spooky ghosts. To top it off, one of his giant inflatables collapsed, rolling across his yard like a deflated balloon. Teenagers joined in on the chaos, throwing eggs at his house.
Brad’s haunted house had turned into a comedy show, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
Brad’s Apology
The next morning, there was a knock on my door. I opened it to find a defeated-looking Brad. He mumbled an apology, admitting he had overreacted. I crossed my arms, making him squirm a little before accepting his apology.
As he left, I couldn’t resist adding, “Funny how things work out, huh?” Brad didn’t respond, but I knew he got the message.
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