Okay. I'll start. I remember being a middle schooler bold enough to "egg" somebody's house.
(Dang! Apparently, I was meaner than I thought! All that pent up emotion, I guess.)
Anyway, since egging houses was new to me and my friend (this was my first time), we weren't exactly professionals. More than a little paranoid, hearts pounding, we stole a single egg from the fridge, knowing that taking more than one risked certain discovery. (Who knew that bleary-eyed mothers of nine children did not keep tallies of spent eggs folded inside their bathrobe pockets?)
Carefully, we wiped our fingerprints off the egg, in order to protect our identities. Then, having trouble deciding which of two homes to egg, we cracked it in two and threw each half at different, adjoining houses. Feet pounding, lungs afire with adrenalin and crisp, fall air, we tore down the street to make our escape.
We dared to look back after a half block or so, but continuing to walk (just in case!) we braced ourselves for a reaction and found ourselves disappointed. What?! No squealing tires? No flashing lights? No angry voices shouting into the night at children huddled in the bushes for cover? We were met only with anticlimactic calm That, and a feeling that we were not cut out for lives of crime; it was boring (and just plain dumb).
So we went home and made omelets instead. (just kidding)
Note: I originally posted this question and story three years ago. Lisleman commented, way back then, but I figured many of you haven't read it, so I went with it. (Yes, I got that nap this afternoon, but it wasn't enough.haha)