When Julia’s husband, Jordan, refuses to buy eggs for their kids, she’s frustrated but lets it go—until she discovers he’s been secretly stocking his mother’s fridge instead. Determined to make a point, Julia devises a clever plan to shift his priorities. What starts as a petty act of revenge quickly leads to a deeper conversation that could change their marriage forever.
I never imagined I’d have so much to say about eggs, yet here I am.
Egg prices are out of control! If you’ve been grocery shopping lately, you know they’ve practically become a luxury.
But for us?
Eggs aren’t just a simple breakfast option. We have two toddlers who need proper nutrition, and eggs are an essential part of their diet.
So when my husband, Jordan, casually suggested cutting back on groceries by skipping eggs, I was furious.
Still, I let it slide.
Until I found out where the eggs were actually going.
And let’s just say, after this, Jordan would never be confused about his priorities again.
It all started last Monday when I called him on his way home from work.
“Hey, honey,” I said. “Can you grab a few dozen eggs? The kids are almost out, and you know how they stick to their breakfast routine. Oh, and some bananas too.”
There was a pause before he turned off the radio and responded with something I didn’t expect.
“Julia, have you seen how expensive eggs are? The boys don’t need them that badly. Elijah doesn’t even like eggs—he just eats them out of habit. And Levi? He’ll eat anything. We should start cutting back on groceries.”
Cut back?
On food? For our toddlers?
I tightened my grip on the phone.
“We’re not cutting back on basic nutrition, Jordan. Maybe you should cancel your gym membership since you never use it.”
He sighed, as if I was being unreasonable.
“It’s just eggs, Julia. They’ll be fine. Give them more fruit or something.”
I pressed my lips together, holding back the argument bubbling inside me.
Fine, Jordan. You want to play the “saving money” game? Let’s play.
That evening, I took the kids and bought the eggs myself—along with some extra treats, just to make a point.
But the real shock came that weekend.
We visited Jordan’s mom, Carolyn, who had invited us over to spend time with the kids. Since she rarely cooked for them, I packed their lunch boxes.
When we arrived, I went to put their food in the fridge—only to be met with a sight that stopped me in my tracks.
Her fridge was packed with eggs. Cartons upon cartons, stacked neatly, as if she was preparing for an apocalypse.
I stared, my mind racing.
“Wow, Carolyn!” I said, forcing a smile. “Where did you manage to find so many eggs? I swear, I can barely get a dozen at a decent price.”
She beamed, completely unaware of the war waging in my head.
“Oh, Jules! It’s been such a struggle, but Jordan got these for me. Such a sweetheart—he brought them over yesterday so I wouldn’t have to go looking.”
My stomach dropped.
I turned to Jordan, who was conveniently raiding his mom’s snack cupboard. The same man who had told me eggs were “too expensive” for our kids looked downright guilty.
Not here, Julia. Not now.
I knew Jordan. If I called him out in front of his mother, he’d get defensive, and Carolyn would rush to his side. Somehow, I’d end up looking like the bad guy.
So instead, I smiled.
“Wow, Jordan, that was really thoughtful of you!”
He relaxed, thinking he had dodged a bullet.
Oh, you poor, naïve fool.
The entire ride home, I stayed silent.
I wasn’t angry—I was calculating.
By Monday morning? Operation Priorities was in full swing.
That morning, Jordan sat at the table, expecting his usual breakfast of eggs, toast, and sausage.
Instead?
I served him a single slice of dry toast and black coffee. No sugar.
He blinked at his plate.
“Uh… where’s breakfast, Jules?”
I smiled sweetly.
“Oh, honey,” I said. “We had to cut back on groceries. Eggs are too expensive, remember? So is milk. And sugar. Don’t even get me started on sausage.”
His face twitched.
“Julia, come on! That was about the kids, not me!”
I tilted my head.
“Well, if our kids don’t need eggs, Jordan, I don’t think you do either.”
He sighed and took a bite of his sad, eggless toast.
The next morning? Same breakfast.
And the next.
And the next.
By the fifth morning, he finally snapped.
“Okay, okay! I get it!”
I sipped my tea, feigning innocence.
“Get what, Jordan?”
“I shouldn’t have bought eggs for my mom while telling you to cut back. It was selfish, okay? But when she asked, I just couldn’t say no.”
I leaned back in my chair.
“Oh, I don’t know, Jordan. I was actually thinking of sending the eggs I just bought to your mom—since she’s the priority.”
He groaned.
“Alright, alright. I messed up. I should have put the kids first.”
Silence hung in the air for a moment.
Then, I got up, walked to the fridge, and placed a single egg on his plate.
“There. That’s all you get today, Jordan. Maybe tomorrow, if I feel like it, you’ll get two.”
His jaw dropped.
“Julia! What am I supposed to do with a raw egg?”
“Oh, hush. Figure it out. Frying an egg isn’t hard. And be grateful I didn’t send it to Carolyn.”
Jordan groaned, staring at the single, lonely egg like it had personally offended him.
Then, his voice softened.
“Jules… listen. I can explain.”
I folded my arms, waiting.
He sighed, rubbing his face.
“It’s not just about the eggs. Work’s been rough. They’ve been making cuts, and I keep thinking… what if I’m next? I’ve been trying to save wherever I can, just in case.”
I blinked, my frustration easing slightly.
“You never told me that.”
“I didn’t want to stress you out. You already do so much. I thought I could just handle it.”
“By not buying eggs for our children?” I asked, more disappointed than angry.
Jordan exhaled, looking ashamed.
“My mom was a single parent. She worked three jobs to take care of me. When she asked for something, I just… I didn’t know how to say no.”
I studied him, finally understanding.
“Jordan, I get it. But do you know what’s worse than telling your mom ‘no’? Telling your kids their father wouldn’t buy them food.”
His eyes met mine, realization dawning.
“I didn’t think of it like that.”
“Well, you should,” I said. “We’re a team, Jordan. No more making decisions alone. No more putting your mom first. We figure things out together.”
He nodded.
“Together,” he agreed.
“Now, would you like an omelet?”
He smiled, and just like that, we were okay again.
I didn’t think much about the conversation afterward. Things went back to normal—until the following Friday.
I opened the fridge to grab eggs for the boys and nearly dropped the carton in shock.
There weren’t just a couple of cartons. There were six.
I turned to Jordan, who was scrolling on his phone.
“Jordan? Did you rob a farm?”
He smirked.
“I just figured I’d stock up. So we don’t run out again.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“And you were okay with that?”
“You made your point, Jules,” he said. “Some things are non-negotiable—like food for our kids. And honestly? I like eggs too.”
I laughed.
“Look at you, Jordan, learning and growing.”
And just like that, balance was restored.