Was Not Egg-specting That, Part 2

I work at a grocery store as a cashier, and our lanes are right next to each other. I’m in the second to last one, so there’s a lane behind me I can see clearly.

I currently have no one, so I’m leaning against my register facing the one behind me, talking to my coworker before she leaves. Cue a youngish lady with a small kid and a cart full of things.

Lady: “All right, we’ll go to this lane, then.” *Starts unloading*

Kid: “I can help!”

The kid starts handing things to Mom, including handing her eggs.

Lady: “Thank you, honey! But I’m not sure if these are actually good and fresh or not, so I have to check.”

She cracks an egg on the edge of her cart, letting it leak all over the floor.

Me: *Attempting to follow customer service* “Would you like us to get you a new one?”

Lady: “Oh, it’s fine! Only one is missing, but there’s a big mess on the floor now.”

She rolled her cart through it to give it to the bagger.

I cleaned it to the best of my ability so my poor coworker wouldn’t have to, but it still didn’t change the fact of how irritated we were at the fact that a lady “had to check the freshness of her eggs” this way.

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Was Not Egg-specting That