We color Easter Eggs, every year.
We usually wait till the last minute, which means we go to mass with greenish brown hands on Easter. That dye ain't washable, hence the old white t-shirts the boys are sporting.
Joe is showing Pete how to do it.
Pete is dumbfounded.
He is pretty good at it!
Something really made Paul laugh. Maybe it was the silly stickers.
Every year, Joe picks out an egg just for me. He has the boys decorate it, put my name on it. Totally missed focus here, but it says 'Mom' and is purple-y. Very girly.
Awww....Right? NO. Not awwwww. More like, are you F$%@ kidding me, Joe? More on that in a sec.
Joey, totally enthralled over how dip dying is working out.
Oh, I make Joe an egg too. Mine is nice though.
Joe makes funny eggs too. Although...dangit Joe, you know you are supposed to stop using this phrase. You are real clever...shame on you Dr. Adams. Shame. Shame.
Oh, so back to my special egg. My lovely egg. So, the day after Easter, one of the kids will bring me my egg, ask me to eat it, use it in the deviled eggs, etc. I always say yes, crack it open, and then this happens.
So what is more ridiculous...that Joe does this every. single. year. Or that I fall for it every. single. year. Hmmmm...