I decided to be brave this year, and despite the recommendation of ages 5 and up on the Easter egg dye kit, I got things ready for Eva to give it a try. We stripped her down to her diaper and tried to let her get involved as much as possible, pouring in the vinegar and water, dropping in the color tablets, punching out the holes in the drying rack. She was having a blast. Then we brought out the eggs. Oh was she excited. We did our best to explain to her how fragile they were, but the excitement was clouding all reason. We only had one official casualty. She did NOT like to wait and let the egg sit in the dye for very long and did NOT like to be told she couldn't dig into the cups of dye with her hands to retrieve said eggs. In the end, she was getting the hang of it and having lots of fun. Then we ran out of eggs. The tears and cries, I'm sure, could be heard at the neighbor's. "Eggs! More eggs!" she begged on the dining room floor. Happy Easter.
These are the days where memories are made. These are the days I don't want to forget. The good days, the bad days, the mundane days -- I want them all.
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