{"id":104433,"date":"2025-02-28T14:32:27","date_gmt":"2025-02-28T07:32:27","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/cutiething.com\/?p=25936"},"modified":"2025-02-28T14:32:43","modified_gmt":"2025-02-28T07:32:43","slug":"my-mother-in-law-was-taking-my-eggs-and-reselling-them-to-the-neighbor-so-i-caught-her-in-the-act","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/echowoven.com\/my-mother-in-law-was-taking-my-eggs-and-reselling-them-to-the-neighbor-so-i-caught-her-in-the-act\/","title":{"rendered":"My Mother-In-Law Was Taking My Eggs And Reselling Them To The Neighbor \u2014 So I Caught Her In The Act"},"content":{"rendered":"
Eggs kept vanishing from my refrigerator, always after my mother-in-law, Andrea, paid us a visit. At first, I assumed she might be going through a rough patch and had taken a few for herself, but I needed confirmation. I installed a hidden camera, but what I discovered left me utterly stunned.\n I never expected to turn into a part-time investigator over something as basic as eggs. But when you\u2019re forking out nearly $6 for a dozen, you begin to take notice.\n My husband, James, and I hardly used them ourselves. We mainly bought them for our children\u2019s breakfasts, and even then, we treated each one like it was a rare gem.\n Yet, somehow, they kept disappearing at an alarming speed.\n \u201cJames, I could have sworn there were more eggs in here yesterday,\u201d I said one morning, peering into the fridge.\n Something felt off. The carton was too light in my grasp.\n \u201cCome on, Rebecca,\u201d he muttered, still focused on his phone. \u201cMaybe the kids made some eggs when they got home from school.\u201d\n \u201cNo, they ate grilled cheese,\u201d I responded, pulling the carton out and setting it on the counter. \u201cI\u2019ve been keeping count. There were eight yesterday. Now, only four remain.\u201d\n \u201cYou\u2019re tracking our eggs now?\u201d He finally looked up, one eyebrow raised. \u201cThat\u2019s some next-level grocery stress, even for you.\u201d\n \u201cWhen they cost this much? Absolutely.\u201d I shut the fridge door with more force than necessary, causing the bottles inside to clatter. \u201cAnd I\u2019m telling you, something\u2019s not adding up. This has happened before.\u201d\n James exhaled, setting his phone down. \u201cBabe, they\u2019re just eggs. Maybe we\u2019re using them more than we realize.\u201d\n \u201cNo, you\u2019re missing the point. I\u2019ve been monitoring this for weeks now.\u201d I started pacing, my slippers sliding against the tiles. \u201cI\u2019m setting up a hidden camera to catch whoever\u2019s taking them.\u201d\n James chuckled. \u201cYou\u2019re putting our fridge under surveillance?\u201d\n \u201cExactly,\u201d I confirmed.\n There was a crucial detail I hadn\u2019t shared with James yet. When I initially began keeping track of our eggs, I noticed an unsettling pattern\u2014whenever my mother-in-law, Andrea, came over, some always went missing.\n At first, I wondered if she might be struggling financially. These were tough times, and eggs were practically a luxury, but something didn\u2019t sit right.\n Even though James and I had talked many times about his mother\u2019s habit of overstepping boundaries, I didn\u2019t want to point fingers without solid proof.\n \u201cAlright, detective,\u201d James said, pushing his chair back. \u201cDo what you need to do to crack the case.\u201d\n That same day, I ordered a small camera with overnight shipping. I positioned it on a kitchen shelf, aiming directly at the fridge.\n The footage revealed far more than I anticipated. I sat at the kitchen table, mouth hanging open, watching the video on my phone.\n There she was\u2014completely unbothered\u2014methodically transferring eggs from my carton into her tote bag. She carefully wrapped each one in a small cloth, tucking them away like prized possessions.\n But what she did next truly blew my mind.\n Rather than taking them home, she exited through our back door and strolled straight across the yard\u2014to Mrs. Davis\u2019s house. Our neighbor.\n \u201cYou have got to be kidding me,\u201d I whispered, leaning in closer to the screen.\n By sheer luck, our fridge was near the back door, and the camera had just enough range to capture what happened next.\n I watched, stunned, as Andrea handed the eggs to Mrs. Davis, who, in return, slipped her some cash. My mother-in-law had been running an underground egg-selling operation right out of my kitchen.\n \u201cThe absolute audacity,\u201d I murmured to myself. I rewound the footage three times, making sure I wasn\u2019t misinterpreting it. \u201cShe\u2019s been swiping my eggs and selling them to the neighbor!\u201d\n That evening, I decided to do some digging.\n I spotted Mrs. Davis outside watering her roses and casually wandered over.\n \u201cHey there, Mrs. Davis,\u201d I called, leaning against her fence. \u201cJust curious\u2014where do you usually get your eggs from?\u201d\n Her face brightened as if I\u2019d just offered her front-row seats to a Broadway show.\n \u201cOh! Your wonderful mother-in-law! She has backyard chickens and sells them at a bargain\u2014just $4 a dozen! But I suppose you already knew that.\u201d\n I felt my smile stiffen.\n Backyard chickens? Andrea lived in a third-floor condo. The closest she could get to raising chickens was putting a decorative rooster on her balcony.\n \u201cI guess you didn\u2019t realize I already buy from her and wanted to offer me a discount,\u201d Mrs. Davis continued, chuckling. \u201cHow kind of you!\u201d She then winked. \u201cWho would\u2019ve thought eggs would turn into a black-market deal?\u201d\n She laughed before excusing herself to finish watering her plants, leaving me fuming.\n That night, I devised a plan to teach Andrea a well-deserved lesson.\n It took me over an hour to carefully drain an entire carton of eggs, but watching the golden yolks swirl away down the sink was oddly satisfying.\n I then concocted a potent blend of mustard and hot sauce, meticulously refilling each eggshell before returning them to the carton.\n \u201cWhat\u2026 are you doing?\u201d James asked, stepping into the kitchen close to midnight. \u201cIs that mustard?\u201d\n \u201cThis,\u201d I said without looking up, \u201cis justice. Spicy, yellow justice.\u201d\n \u201cDo I even want to know?\u201d\n \u201cProbably not. But I\u2019d suggest grabbing some popcorn for tomorrow\u2019s entertainment.\u201d\n The trap was set. That weekend, Andrea visited as usual to see the grandkids.\n I observed her closely while pretending to be glued to my phone. She followed her typical routine\u2014greeting the children, commenting on their growth, and strategically positioning herself near the kitchen.\n \u201cOh, I\u2019ll just grab some water,\u201d she announced casually before slipping into the kitchen.\n I instantly checked the camera feed. Just as expected, she pocketed the eggs and hurried out the back door. Within minutes, she was back inside, chatting as if nothing had happened.\n That evening, I invited Andrea to enjoy a cup of tea with me on the back porch. From there, we had a perfect view of Mrs. Davis\u2019s kitchen.\n She never used curtains, and I often watched her bake from here. Tonight, however, promised a different kind of spectacle.\n Mrs. Davis bustled around, gathering ingredients. Then, she picked up an egg.\n She cracked it open\u2014and let out a bloodcurdling scream as mustard and hot sauce sprayed everywhere.\n Andrea jerked upright, nearly dropping her teacup. \u201cWhat on earth?\u201d\n I feigned confusion. \u201cHmm?\u201d\n Then, a furious pounding on our front door made her jump again.\n I strolled over leisurely, barely suppressing my grin.\n There stood Mrs. Davis, hands smeared with mustard, face flushed with rage. She looked like someone who had just realized their winning lottery ticket was fake.\n \u201cThose eggs!\u201d she shrieked as I motioned her inside. \u201cThey were filled with\u2026 with\u2026\u201d\n \u201cEggs?\u201d I asked, all innocence. \u201cOh! You mean the ones you bought from Andrea? Was there a problem?\u201d\n Andrea entered the room at that moment. Mrs. Davis spun toward her, seething.\n \u201cAndrea?! What\u2019s going on? The eggs you sold me were full of mustard and hot sauce!\u201d\n \u201cThat\u2019s not possible. Rebecca\u2014\u201d Andrea hissed, turning toward me. \u201cWhat did you do?\u201d\n I folded my arms. \u201cMe? The real question is, why were you stealing from my fridge and selling my groceries?\u201d\n Mrs. Davis gawked. \u201cWait\u2026 you took these eggs from Rebecca?\u201d\n Silence.\n Andrea\u2019s face turned an impressive shade of crimson, clashing with her floral blouse. She opened and closed her mouth like a fish, unable to find words.\n \u201cI can\u2019t believe this,\u201d Mrs. Davis muttered. She jabbed a mustard-covered finger at Andrea. \u201cI trusted you! I even told my entire bridge club about your incredible eggs!\u201d\n She stormed out, slamming the door so hard the windows rattled. Andrea barely stayed long enough to grab her purse before fleeing, her half-finished tea abandoned.\n Once she was gone, I burst into laughter. When James got home, I recounted the entire ordeal. He laughed so hard, he had to wipe tears from his eyes.\n \u201cThat\u2019s what you did with the mustard and hot sauce?\u201d he wheezed. \u201cGenius. Also, kind of terrifying. I\u2019ll never touch your groceries again.\u201d\n Since then, our eggs have remained exactly where they belong\u2014safe in our fridge.\n This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.\n Source: thecelebritist.com\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Eggs kept vanishing from my refrigerator, always after my mother-in-law, Andrea, paid us a visit. At first, I assumed she might be going through a rough patch and had taken a few for herself, but I needed confirmation. I installed a hidden camera, but what I discovered left me utterly stunned. For illustration purposes only. …\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":104434,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1439],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-104433","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-stories"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/echowoven.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/104433","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/echowoven.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/echowoven.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/echowoven.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/echowoven.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=104433"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/echowoven.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/104433\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":104441,"href":"https:\/\/echowoven.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/104433\/revisions\/104441"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/echowoven.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/104434"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/echowoven.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=104433"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/echowoven.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=104433"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/echowoven.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=104433"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}