A story about bad intentions and consequences ...

So Hunter and I were sitting on the stoop of the hay barn, enjoying the sun and brushing the dogs. Logan was lying in the yard swing, talking to a girl on the phone (big surprise, right?).

I recalled Logan had said a few days ago that he had seen a clutch of eggs under the hay barn, so I asked Hunter to grab them. Upon inspection, I discovered them to be filthy, and when shaken, they sounded all liquid.

Ohhhhh ... rotten. I spied Logan on that swing with his back to me, completely oblivious to everything around him. So, in my infinite wisdom, I give Hunter the nod, indicating I have decided to lob an egg to burst its stink bomb near loverboy to get his attention.

I gave a good heave, but it wasn't enough, and the egg just bounced on the grass. Hmmm, I have to throw it harder. So I grip that cold, filthy chicken nugget and fix to crank it as hard as I could, and without realizing it, I tightened my grip on the remaining 4 eggs clutched between my left arm and body, effectively blowing them up!

The coagulated, green, cottage cheese texture and stink that makes you wretch was plastered all over my torso and arms, with bits of shell glued to the revolting mess. Hunter’s howling laughter rang in my ears. Shrieking, I ran to the house, stripping as I went, down through the garage, laundry room, and into the shower.

As I emerged from the bathroom, disgusted that I brought that upon myself ... there stood my teen, still unaware of what I had done but concerned because he had heard me screaming. I explained what had occurred, and with an incredulous tone, he said to the girl on the phone,  "Can you believe this? My own mother throws rotten eggs at me."

Then wanders off saying, "Karma is alive and well!"