Eggs for Breakfast

Growing up, we bought a lot of groceries. There was a time when Mom would come home from the grocery store with 8 gallons of milk. They would completely fill the top shelf of the fridge and then -one week later -they would all be gone. We could go through one gallon during breakfast alone. Needless to say, grocery shopping could be stressful for Mother. When she got home, all of us kids knew it was our job to bring everything in so Mom wouldn’t have to. I always had a competition with myself to see how much I could carry in at once. I got to be fairly adept at grocery-toting, a skill that has come in handy all my life. One night, as I joined in the bustle of bringing in the groceries, I carried the eggs inside. But being the pro grocery-toter that I was, I also had about three other bags on my arm. By the time I reached the porch, the load was too heavy for me and I…

dropped the eggs. They didn’t go flying over our concrete porch or anything. The bag just fell flat on it’s bottom. The cartons stayed closed. Instead of instantly cracking a carton open to see the damage, I hurriedly picked the bag up and decided to mentally deny to myself that the dropping had ever occurred. But the guilt could not be denied. Why didn’t I just TELL Mother? Because Mother was already stressed out from spending an absurd amount of money on food that three preteen boys and two girls would easily throw back like it was nothing. In a few days, everything she had payed for would be totally gone. I didn’t want to tell her that something might have happened to the eggs! Can you imagine the wrath that might have been unleashed on the girl who may or may not have broken 3 dozen eggs?!?!
Well it turns out I DID break them.
And I never, ever spoke up. I carried that guilt with me for years. In fact, I never told my mother until a few years ago. By then she wasn’t mad anymore.

Well, guess what Mom? Groceries cost more now. I only have two small kids and I only need to purchase TWO gallons of milk instead of eight, but grocery shopping can really get me sometimes. We went last night, you know. I haven’t taken my husband with me in awhile, and he cursed just about everything for going up in price. To soothe our souls, I took a detour home that included Sonic. Sonic always helps everything.
As we all unloaded groceries -the kids are old enough now and LOVE to be “big and strong!” helpers -I dropped the bag with 18 eggs in it.
Just as I was gingerly plucking eggs from the bag they spilled in, my husband came up behind me.
“What happened?” he asked, surprised.
“Karma,” I sighed, “It was bound to happen someday and I deserve it.”
“Eggs for breakfast?” He laughed.
Yes darling.
Eggs it is.