Dying to Dye

Piper begs for scrambled eggs.  I don’t know when the fascination started, or why, but she loves eggs.

So when Easter was approaching and she started to get chocolate eggs, I think she felt like she had entered  her own little perfect world.

And, as icing on the cake, I told her that she’d get to COLOR eggs, too. 

I think she thought I’d, finally, lost my mind.

But when she figured out what was going on, she couldn’t get enough.  She loved getting to pick what egg went into which cup and deciding how long they were going to stay.  She also loved to “’tir ‘tir ‘tir” (stir stir stir, for those of you not versed in Piperese) and watch us jump trying to keep dye from covering my kitchen.

We decided that, after the eggs were all brightly colored, it was time to get our brightly colored children into the bath.  When Piper was done, she couldn’t wait to see what her masterpieces looked like!

…and she thought that she could sample one as a bedtime snack.  Pink means yummy, right???

I had to explain that you don’t eat the pink part.  And then the only way I could convince her to go to bed was by promising her she could have one for breakfast in the morning.  I asked which one she was going to have:

The irony of the whole experience?  She downright, absolutely, positively refused to eat a single dyed egg.

Go figure.