My Neighbor Vandalized My Car Over Halloween Décor—Wait Until You Hear His Reason

I was exhausted—the kind of bone-deep tiredness that makes you forget if you’ve eaten or even brushed your teeth. With newborn twins, I was running on empty, cycling through diapers, feedings, and sleepless nights. So, when I stepped outside that morning to find my car splattered with eggs, it was the last thing I needed.

At first, I chalked it up to a random Halloween prank. After all, it’s that time of year. Too worn out to be angry, I grabbed a sponge and a bucket, preparing to clean up. But before I could start, Brad, my neighbor, strutted over.

“That was me,” he announced proudly. “Your car was ruining the view of my Halloween decorations.”

I blinked in disbelief, the fog of exhaustion making it hard to process. My car? Ruining his view? His display was over-the-top as always—plastic skeletons, fake cobwebs, oversized pumpkins—and I just wanted to park somewhere close. Furious but drained, I just nodded, biting back words I’d regret. Brad had no idea who he was dealing with.

My twins, Lily and Lucas, were adorable but needed constant care, leaving me running on fumes. Halloween was approaching, and I couldn’t summon any holiday spirit—especially with Brad around.

Brad took Halloween seriously, every year transforming his house into a haunted spectacle that people came from all over to see. He loved the attention, but I was far too tired to care about his elaborate setup.

Then one October morning, things took a frustrating turn. I went outside with Lily on one hip and Lucas in my other arm, only to find my car covered in eggs. The mess was plastered across the windshield, dripping like a horrible breakfast gone wrong. “Are you serious?” I muttered in disbelief.

I had parked in front of Brad’s house the night before, simply because it was the closest spot to my door, which made things easier with the twins. At first, I thought it was a prank, but seeing egg splatters by his porch made it clear—this was Brad’s doing.

Angry, I marched up to his door and knocked, maybe a bit too hard. Brad opened the door, arms crossed, standing among his over-the-top decorations: cobwebs, skeletons, and even a witch propped on a chair. It was all a bit much.

“Did you see who egged my car?” I asked, wasting no time.

“Yeah, that was me,” he replied, without a hint of remorse. “Your car was blocking the view of my decorations.”

I stared, stunned. “You egged my car because it was parked in front of your house?”

“People come from everywhere to see my setup. Your car ruins the view,” he said smugly, as if I should have known better.

My anger boiled, but I was too tired to argue. “Fine,” I said through gritted teeth, turning away. As I scrubbed egg off my car, I realized Brad wasn’t just annoying—he was a bully. And I had had enough.

Later, as I rocked Lily to sleep, a plan formed. Brad’s pride in his Halloween display was his weakness. I didn’t have the energy for a fight, but a little revenge? That I could handle.

The next day, I casually walked over while Brad was adding more decorations.

“Hey, Brad,” I said, faking a friendly tone. “I was thinking—it was inconsiderate of me to block your display. Have you thought about upgrading it?”

“Upgrade?” he repeated, his curiosity piqued.

“Yeah, maybe fog machines or ghost projectors. They’d really wow the crowd.”

His eyes lit up, and I could see the wheels turning. I suggested brands I’d researched—cheap products with terrible reviews. He didn’t need to know that.

Halloween night, his house looked like a movie set, drawing crowds. But right on cue, the fog machine started spraying water, and his ghost projector malfunctioned, displaying a glitchy mess instead of a ghost. Kids laughed, and teenagers egged his house for fun. His setup was a disaster.

The next morning, Brad knocked on my door, looking defeated.

“I, uh, wanted to apologize,” he said, shifting awkwardly. “I overreacted.”

I crossed my arms, letting him squirm. “Yeah, you did.”

He nodded, embarrassed. “It won’t happen again.”

As he walked away, I added, “Funny how things work out, huh?” He had no response.