The Egg Story

The co-parenting training class includes a discussion of anger and how anger can cause people to do things they would not normally do. I use the egg story as an example of how people change when anger takes control of their emotions.

It’s about a dad, angry that the divorce is final, angry that his children are no longer in his daily life and angry that he lived in a tiny apartment, while his ex- lived in what had been their 10-room house.

One night, the anger so filled him that he had to do something physical. So he put on his old military field jacket, stopped by the grocery store to buy some eggs and dog treats, and walked the mile into his old neighborhood with the eggs in one large pocket of his jacket and the dog treats in the other pocket.

He knew the neighborhood and the shortcuts and the darkest part of his former yard. Climbing over fences, he moved closer to the house, greeting the dogs and offering treats. He positioned himself in his former yard, listening to the sound of crunching in the yards around him. He threw the first egg and heard a gratifying smack as it hit the house. Then he quickly threw the rest, his heart racing with excitement. The euphoria lasted just a few seconds, and then he realized he had to get out of the area, but he couldn’t run because the dogs would start barking. So he carefully re-traced his route, handing out treats and being as quiet as possible.

Back at his tiny divorce apartment, he waited for a knock on the door. Surely someone had recognized him and called police. No one came. A few weeks later, he had another anger attack and completed another successful egg expedition. And no one knocked on the door.

While buying eggs and dog treats for a third launch, the rational side of his brain overtook the anger side. How stupid he was, his rational side reasoned. The last thing his children needed was to see was him, on the ground outside their house, being handcuffed by police. Surely he didn’t want his ex to his arrest as an example that he was a bad person. And how would an arrest impact on the ability to see his children, even if it was every other weekend.

So the angry dad returned the eggs and dog treats to the shelf and went home. From then on, whenever anger tried to overwhelm him, he got on his bicycle and went for a brisk ride—away from his former neighborhood. The physical exertion released the anger and left him too tired to walk to his target.

I know the details of this dad, because the angry dad was me. For 18 years I kept the secret of the egg attacks from my children. No reason to upset them. Then in October 2005, I had an opportunity to see them all at the same time. The four of us had not been together in nearly two decades. I flew to Seattle and during lunch at the Space Needle, I talked about anger and what it does to people. Then I revealed the secret of the egg story. They howled with laughter. All of them remembered the house being egged. Their mom thought it was neighbors, upset at her for divorcing me. Well, she was partly right. My children said they would not tell their mother who really egged the house. Let her think it was angry neighbors. Whenever I hear about someone injuring or killing others in a blind rage, I think to myself: Thank goodness all I did was egg a house. And I smile.

Chuck Hardwick
Client Services