So, I’m breezing through Target this morning, in a hurry of course because I only had about twenty minutes to get in and get out. There was the meat market first and the farmers market after and then off to the middle school to organize tee shirts. I get there, focused and ready to shop for my three things, but of course I get caught up with their latest coupon of spend $50 on food and groceries and get $10 off. That’s a deal, folks! So I’m adding up stuff in my head which is getting in the way of what I really went in there to buy which was a new thermometer (because I don’t trust mine when it tells me Mary’s temperature is 97 when she is clearly burning up), poster board (which they didn’t have) and a new bottle of Children’s Motrin (because what I gave Mary at 5am had expired last September). I’m trying to remember what I was supposed to get while at the same time add up the food stuff that was in my cart to make sure I hit the $50 mark.
So then I remember that Bennett needs something like 12 (or is it 24?) filled Easter eggs for his class and some sort of thing they are doing, and rather than climb in the attic to get 12 or 24 of 568 million plastic eggs I already own, I decided to buy more. That makes sense, right? You can never have too many plastic eggs, don’t you know? I’m racing through the Easter section, trying to decide if Mary will ever put together the fact that the candy I’m also buying, because, hey, I’m at the store, I’m buying it now AND it counts toward the $10 coupon, will be the same candy that shows up in her Easter Basket. (Because in our house, I leave the candy out for the Easter Bunny, and HE puts it in the baskets. That’s my story …) Then I decide that maybe in her fever-induced delirium, she won’t remember. Maybe I’ll get lucky. She was more interested in the Spider-Man gloves that she said would be perfect for her 2 costumes anyway. So there we are, gathering stacks and stacks of candy, I’m trying to do the math of 6 Reese’s eggs to a package times 5 packages is 30 divided by 7 kids is … how many eggs per kid again? And will there be any left over for me or dad? Maybe I should get six packages …
Have you ever tried to make 7 Easter baskets come out even? And I’m not even doing the chocolate bunny this year because I couldn’t find my standard $1 solid (small, but SOLID chocolate, thank you very much) bunny. They were all around $3 or more. Yes, times 7 = $21. Uh, no way.
Why not just color eggs you say? They are so much less expensive … yes, well, I have a story about that. We have not colored eggs in about five years. Well, I think they went to Mimi’s house in North Carolina once to do them, but that’s what grandma’s are for. She had a very elaborate set up and the kids loved it.
Me? Not so much.
First, for everyone to do, say 5-6 eggs (which isn’t really a lot), I would have to buy 42 eggs. That’s almost 4 dozen. Not to mention, it would take 2-3 of those Paas Kits, plus the vinegar and all the little cups. What a nightmare. And have you ever had a kid who won’t eat a colored egg because a little of the dye made its way through the shell into the white and colored it weird? Yeah, so imagine 42 hard boiled eggs, half of which they wouldn’t eat because they look weird. We are talking mounds of egg salad.
But one time, years ago, we did color eggs. It was fun I’m sure, Easter came and went and all those eggs made funky egg salad. All but one it would seem. It was a full-out year later, I was in the attic looking for something and came across the Easter baskets. There was a lone egg that had somehow been left behind. My first thought was, “Holy smokes, this is going to be horrible.” (Actually, I had a different thought, but who knows who’s reading this blog?!) I knew I had to get it out of the attic and in the outside trash quickly because if it broke … ugh.
Gingerly, I brought the entire basket downstairs with the intent to dump it (grass and all) in the trash and then take the trash out. Something about the change in air temperature though must have disturbed it because it made a sound like a GUNSHOT and burst into a million pieces.
Like, literally. It became dust. There was no smell, no nothing. I found a tiny piece of pink shell that was the only thing left for CSI to even know it existed.
It made me think (admittedly, randomly) of how the city of New Orleans buries its dead, above ground (because they are below sea level and wouldn’t THAT just be like something out of a Poltergeist movie), in these crypts that are sealed tight. The heat from the summer and fall sun turn those crypts into an oven and the contents just … burn up. Sort of like my egg in the attic.
And the very reason I will probably never color eggs again, unless I’m with my grandkids. Plastic pink, green and blue are just fine with me.