Quit Egging Us On

For the last couple of weeks, we've had the pleasure of playing host to Sara and her wonderful kids Max and Corina. This recent trip started off kind of bumpy when they experienced a blowout around Lagoon in the middle of what would best be described as "what roads would look like after a nuclear armageddon". (Slight exaggeration, but the construction in Davis County is horrible right now.) Apparently someone in our neighborhood thought that increased adversity only makes you stronger and egged her car the next day.

As I was pulling away to go to work this morning, I noticed small white fragments on the ground and yellow blotches on her car. Yep, someone had decided that they liked the egging so much that they'd do an encore. What's the deal? Do they have something against Canadians? Maybe they hate Chevys? Does Sara have a secret detractor that (creepily) knows where we live? I'm at a loss. It's really disappointing since the worst we've had happen in the nearly three years we've lived in White City is a stolen snow brush.

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4 Responses to Quit Egging Us On

  1. numberless says:

    Real, real classy. Of course, you’re equally at fault. It was bad enough that the car got egged, but do your readers really deserve a cheap shot pun in your title? That smarts!

  2. Sara says:

    Seriously. SERIOUSLY. We’re heading out to clean it some more in a few minutes.

  3. Mike says:

    And on the holiest day of all Mormondom to boot! For shame eggers, for shame.

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