Chapter 1: The Unexpected Twist of Parenthood

Becoming a parent is often synonymous with sleepless nights, endless days, and a fair share of stress. However, the surprises that parenthood brings can sometimes be downright astonishing. After over eleven years of parenting, I was taken aback when I recently found myself developing an uncontrollable urge to steal plastic straws from my nearby coffee shop. This was definitely not something I anticipated on my parenting bingo card.

It all began with a school project. My eldest son, finishing his fifth grade year, had a final task that involved creating a contraption to safeguard an egg from a fall, specifically from the height of a firetruck ladder. It seemed simple enough. My son, a fan of the engineering YouTuber Mark Rober, was inspired by a similar experiment he had seen on the channel. Mark had conducted his experiment by dropping his creation from a bridge or perhaps even higher, but my son was ready to take on the challenge.

What he needed were just a few materials: some tape and approximately 15 to 20 plastic straws.

In Mark's video, he recommended using Wendy's straws for their sturdiness, even demonstrating how he gathered a handful. Though I found this approach a bit reckless, I couldn’t argue with the success of a YouTuber boasting 24 million subscribers. Hence, I decided to try my luck at my local coffee shop, which starts with a "D," opting out of Wendy's due to my unfamiliarity with its layout.

After sending the kids off to school, I placed my coffee order via the mobile app, drove over, parked, took a few deep breaths, and walked into the coffee shop with a casual demeanor, trying not to signal that I was about to raid their straw supply. My heart raced as I saw only one other customer and the straws were just a few steps away from the baristas. I fidgeted with my drink as I waited for the moment to be right, finally pocketing 17 straws. My pockets, however, were not deep enough, so I awkwardly tried to conceal the straws with my shirt as I limped toward the exit, pretending to nurse an imaginary pain. Once I was close to the door, I abandoned all pretense and bolted out into the fresh air.

I excitedly texted my wife about my successful heist, and she encouraged me to "enjoy the rush all day." I did just that, spending the rest of the school day crafting a star-shaped egg holder from my pilfered orange straws and tape, continually comparing my design to Mark Rober’s through his video. Although my prototype didn’t hold up against his impressive design, I was satisfied with my effort.

When the kids returned home, I proudly displayed my creation, gesturing toward it like a game show host unveiling a prize. They were momentarily impressed, tearing their eyes away from their devices. Later that day, we gathered at the park with some of my son's classmates to test my design. Lacking a firetruck, we improvised—my son’s friend was set to throw the egg holder, but the group decided I should do it instead. I tossed the contraption as high as I could. Although a few straws snapped upon landing, the egg remained safe in its protective shell. We continued the tests, and the egg didn’t crack until the third or fourth throw, aligning with Mark Rober’s explanation that the straws absorb the impact.

My sense of achievement was sky-high until my son later revealed that he had built his own design at school, which was deemed too large to meet the project guidelines. Their egg, unfortunately, met its demise, and I couldn’t help but draw my own conclusions about our respective designs.

Weirdly, even after the competition ended, I found myself craving more straws. Each time I returned to the coffee shop, I felt an almost magnetic pull toward the straw holder. I managed to limit myself to just one or two extra straws per visit, stashing them in my car for future use just in case another egg drop opportunity arose. I was doing fine until I visited a different branch of the same coffee chain.

Walking in, I was stunned—this store was a straw collector's paradise. After retrieving my drink, I strolled back, feeling that familiar tug in my gut. As I neared the straw holder, I could hardly believe my eyes. Almost a hundred straws beckoned to me, practically overflowing. It felt surreal. The exit was mere steps away; I could scoop them all up in seconds, drink in hand, and vanish like a phantom.

But, as any seasoned kleptomaniac knows, it’s all about willpower. I managed to resist temptation this time. I grabbed my coffee and swiftly exited before I could reconsider. Yet, those with a straw fixation understand that it’s a day-by-day battle, and you never know when the urge to "borrow" might strike again.

Andrew is a writer specializing in essays and humor, and he edits Frazzled, a parenting humor publication on Medium. Follow him on Twitter for more entertaining tales about egg drops and beyond.

Chapter 2: The Ongoing Struggle

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