When Lisa’s husband, Eric, refuses to buy eggs for their children, she’s enraged — but she lets it slide. That is, until she uncovers that he’s been secretly stocking up his mother’s fridge instead. Determined to teach him a lesson about where his loyalties should lie, Lisa devises a plan for some petty revenge — but what starts as a small act of payback ends up turning into a serious conversation that might forever reshape their marriage.
I never imagined I’d find myself writing a full-blown rant about eggs of all things, but here we are.
These days, the price of eggs is downright outrageous! You’d think they were gold-plated, judging by how they’re priced in the grocery stores lately.
But for our family?
Eggs aren’t just a casual breakfast ingredient. We have two toddlers — two active, growing little boys who depend on them for their morning meals.
So, when Eric offhandedly suggested that we cut back on groceries and stop buying eggs, I was furious.
But I swallowed that anger.
Until I discovered where those eggs were really going.
Last Monday, I rang Eric while he was on his way home from work.
“Hey, love,” I began. “Could you pick up a few dozen eggs on your way back? The boys are almost out, and you know they can’t go without their eggs. Oh, and grab some bananas too, please.”
There was a pause on the line. I heard the soft click of his radio turning off. Then he hit me with it.
“Lisa, have you checked egg prices lately? They’re ridiculously expensive. The boys don’t need them that badly. Toby doesn’t even really like them — he just eats them out of habit. And Leo? He’ll eat just about anything. We really need to start reducing our grocery spending.”
Cutting back?
On food? For our own children?
I clenched my phone so hard I thought I might snap it in two.
“We’re not going to ‘reduce spending’ by sacrificing the kids’ nutrition, Eric. Maybe you should consider canceling your streaming subscriptions. When was the last time you even finished a show?”
Eric let out a long sigh, as though I was being completely unreasonable.
“They’re just eggs, Lisa. Give them more fruit or something else.”
I pressed my lips together tightly, fighting the urge to start yelling right then and there.
Okay, Eric. If you want to play this “we need to save money” game, let’s see who wins.
I loaded the boys into the car and headed to the store myself. Not only did I buy eggs, I also grabbed chocolate bars, fresh fruit, yogurt, and some bottled smoothies. We were going to have a proper breakfast supply.
A few days later, that weekend, we went to visit Eric’s mother, Nancy. I usually didn’t mind Nancy too much — she stayed out of my parenting choices and didn’t hover over me.
When she asked us to bring the boys over so she could spend time with them, I agreed. Since she doesn’t usually cook for them, I packed their lunches.
Once we arrived, I went straight to put the boys’ lunchboxes in the fridge. Who wants to eat sandwiches that have been sitting out all day?
And that’s when I saw it.
A fridge overflowing with eggs.
I’m not talking about one or two extra cartons — I mean fully stocked, cartons piled on top of each other. Either Nancy was preparing for an egg-eating contest or planning to feed the entire neighborhood.
My jaw nearly hit the floor.
“What in the world?” I blurted out. “Nancy! How did you manage to get so many eggs? I can barely find a single dozen at a reasonable price these days!”
Nancy beamed at me, blissfully unaware of the rage starting to boil inside me.
“Oh, Lisa! Isn’t it wonderful? Eric brought them over yesterday so I wouldn’t have to run all over town looking. He’s just so thoughtful!”
I felt my heart sink.
I turned my head to look at Eric, who was busy rifling through his mom’s snack drawer as if nothing had happened. The same Eric who said eggs were “too expensive” for his own kids.
When he looked up, his expression immediately shifted — guilt flashing across his face.
I inhaled slowly.
Not here, Lisa. Not in front of Nancy.
If I called him out now, Eric would retreat into his defensive shell, Nancy would leap to his side, and somehow I’d end up looking like the overdramatic wife.
So instead, I smiled sweetly.
“Oh, Eric! That’s so kind of you!”
His shoulders relaxed, thinking he was off the hook.
Oh, sweet, clueless man. You have no idea.
The entire ride home, I didn’t utter a single word.
I wasn’t fuming anymore. I was calculating.
Come Monday morning?
Operation Priorities was underway.
Eric came to the table expecting his usual breakfast: eggs, toast, sausages.
Instead?
A single slice of dry toast and a mug of black coffee. No sugar.
He looked at the plate, puzzled. “Uh… where’s the rest of my breakfast?”
I gave him the most saccharine smile.
“Oh, honey! I had to make some budget cuts, remember? Eggs are too expensive now. And milk, sausages — can’t justify those either. We have to be frugal.”
His face twisted in confusion and annoyance.
“Lisa, this was about the kids’ meals! Not mine!”
I tilted my head to the side. “Well, if eggs aren’t necessary for our children, I figure you can manage without too.”
He groaned and reluctantly bit into his sad, dry toast.
“Alright then, I’ll go get the boys ready for school,” I said lightly, walking away.
The next day, same story.
And the next.
And the next.
Eric didn’t even attempt to make eggs for himself — he just accepted the grim breakfasts.
By the fifth morning, he finally snapped.
“Okay! Enough! I get it!”
I looked up from my tea innocently. “Get what, darling?”
“I shouldn’t have given all those eggs to my mom and told you to skip them for the boys. It was selfish. But when she called, I didn’t know how to say no. I get it now. Can I please have my eggs back?”
I leaned against the counter, folding my arms.
“Oh, I don’t know… I was actually thinking about dropping off the last carton to Nancy today. You know, since she’s clearly your top priority.”
He let out a frustrated groan, rubbing his face.
“Alright, Lisa. I get it. The kids come first. I messed up.”
I let the silence stretch for a moment.
Then, I went to the fridge, pulled out a single egg, and placed it on his plate.
“There. One egg. Enjoy.”
His mouth fell open.
“Lisa! What am I supposed to do with a raw egg?”
“Oh, come on. Figure it out. Frying an egg isn’t that complicated. Be thankful I didn’t just ship it straight to Nancy’s fridge.”
Eric looked at that lonely egg like it had personally insulted him.
He took a deep breath. “There’s more to this, Lisa. Can I just… explain?”
I didn’t say a word. I just watched him.
He sighed deeply and ran a hand over his face.
“It’s not only about eggs. Work has been rough. They’re cutting people, and every day I’m worried I’ll be next. I thought if I saved in small ways, maybe we’d have a little cushion.”
My expression softened a fraction.
“You could’ve told me that, Eric.”
“I didn’t want to add to your worries. You handle the boys, the house — I didn’t want to burden you too.”
“By sacrificing eggs for your children?” I said, my voice quiet but edged with disappointment.
He stared at his plate, looking utterly defeated.
“It was stupid. I panicked. When Mom called and said she couldn’t find eggs, I just… reverted. She worked so hard when I was growing up. Even though she doesn’t need help now, I felt like I owed her.”
I watched him carefully. For the first time since this ridiculous egg fiasco started, I could see the guilt beneath it all — the fear of failing his family, the instinct to please his mother, the weight of all of it.
“Eric,” I said softly. “I understand wanting to take care of your mother. But not at the expense of your own children. And not without talking to me.”
He looked up at me, his eyes searching mine. “You’re right. I should’ve put our family first. I see that now.”
I reached across the table, taking his hand in mine.
“From now on, we talk. No more hidden cuts. No more solo decisions. We’re a team.”
His fingers closed around mine tightly.
I could hear the boys’ alarm going off upstairs. Any second, they’d come running into the kitchen.
“Together,” he echoed.
“Want an omelet today?” I asked, finally smiling.
Eric let out a genuine laugh of relief. “Yes. Please.”
After that day, things changed. Eric went back to grocery shopping, the boys got their eggs, and I retired his dry toast punishment.
Then, last Friday, I opened the fridge to get eggs for the boys and almost dropped the carton.
Instead of the usual two or three cartons, there were six.
I turned slowly to Eric, who stood by the coffee maker, scrolling through his phone.
“Eric? What’s with all these eggs? Did you adopt a flock of chickens?”
He looked up, a sly smile forming.
“I thought I’d stock up. You know… so we don’t run out again.”
I squinted at him, tossing some bread into the toaster.
“And you’re okay with that?”
“You made your point, Lisa. Some things are non-negotiable. Food for the kids is one of them. And… I actually like eggs too.”
I shook my head, laughing. “Look at you. Personal growth and everything.”
Eric laughed, and for the first time in a long while, I felt like we were truly on the same team again.
