Egging Houses With The Kids

You've-Been-Egged

“Who wants to egg houses?” I yelled out to the kids.

Seagulls have a slower reaction time to chips on a beach. The house shook as they thundered towards me, leaving XBox controllers and Barbies in their wake.

Our kids LOVE egging other people’s houses.

They sat on the floor filling up plastic eggs with lollies and gathered up the notes they’d drawn on and coloured in during the day. Well most did…

“Dad! She’s eating the lollies!” yelled Master9 as he pointed an accusatory finger at Miss2.

“That’s okay,” I told him. “That’s her job.”

“Can it be my job too?”

“It’s her job because she’s not getting out the car to hide the eggs.” I let that sink in for a second or two. “Still want her job?”

I didn’t think so.

Finally we were ready to rock and roll.

“Grab the camera,” Tracey told me as she shepherded the kids to the car.

Which is why the photos are dark and blurry. I grabbed the mobile, thinking it’d be good enough. It wasn’t.

To anyone thinking maybe this sounds like a good idea and maybe they might do – stop thinking. Making notes (which say what’s happening and how many eggs are hidden in their yards). Filling eggs with lollies. Sneaking around in the dark hiding stuff. It is hilarious fun and about the most exciting thing in our annual calender. Just do it.

The best bit is getting away with it all without being seen. I’m basing that on last year’s egging, not this year’s.

Turns out we are not very good at the ‘sneaking around in the dark hiding stuff’ bit anymore. Maybe it’s because there’s so many us and the snickering is equivalent of an eighteen wheeler driving past, slamming on it’s brakes and hitting a tip truck.

Of the dozen houses we egged we were spotted at no less than 9. In fact, I think it was 10, but my mother was just being nice.

We should have been able to notch up the first house.

“Quick,” I hissed when Miss10 and Master9 had hidden the eggs, planted the note and rung the bell. They’d raced back to the car and just about dived into the back seats.

The porch light came on.

“Belts!” I said, and I heard them snap into place.

The door wasn’t even open yet. We’d done it!

The door opened.

Our friend waved at us.

I waved back.

Still we hadn’t moved.

Their kids came out and waved at my kids, who waved back.

I looked at Tracey.

She was texting a friend on my ‘camera’.

“Um…” I said. “Are we leaving? Or are we planning on waiting until they find the eggs so they can say thank you?”

“Oh!” said my wife, looking up from the phone before fumbling itΒ to one side and reaching for the the handbrake.Β “You’ve finished?”

“Yeah,” I said. “And you might want to wave. They’ll think you’re rude otherwise.”

Which, although it was kids’ chuckling which was the main culprit, was pretty much the way it went the rest of the night. Not that it matters. The main thing is everyone involved, from our kids to the kids they egged, from us to the other parents, had a funtastic time.

Like I said, stop thinking about it and just do it – go egg your friends’ houses. They’ll thank you for it πŸ™‚

Just don’t expect the photos to be any good.

πŸ™‚ please shareΒ πŸ™‚

β€œRaising a family on little more than laughs.”

4 Comments

  • I think it was Tracey’s: ‘You’ve been egged!’ text that gave it away for us πŸ™‚ My girls loved finding the eggs and they ate all of the lollies before they came inside! Thanks πŸ™‚ We’ve just finished our eggy-rounds (did you hear them bouncing off your verandah rails??) – so much FUN!

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