Oh, the Easter eggs…

I always seem to forget about dying the Easter eggs. If  no one mentioned dying eggs I would probably forget about it all together until October when I’d think about if for a few days before promptly forgetting about it again. I apologize in advance to my children if they miss out on dying eggs.

Maybe I’ve never had a particularly eventful experience when dying eggs. Or maybe my brain just never considered it all that important. Brains are annoying that way. Somehow my brain feels that it’s important I never forget how in kindergarten I didn’t know how to lock the bathroom stall doors so I just left them open, but it fails to remember things like the distance formula that I use almost every week.

Anyway, so I was on Pinterest looking at all the creative ways people dyed eggs and looking for one that I could do that didn’t take all night and didn’t require things like margarine. (Really, who uses margarine to dye eggs???)

I didn’t find a tutorial. (No thanks to Martha Stuart.) So now I need to think up a weird way to dye eggs. Wish me luck.

How do you dye your Easter eggs?

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2 thoughts on “Oh, the Easter eggs…

  1. I dye eggs by hopping on a train and going up to East Williston and messing up Margaret’s lovely kitchen while wearing fluffy white ears. And as for hiding them? I walk around with Tony and put them in people’s book cases and we both hope we remember to find them later, lest we leave spoiled egg bombs around the house.

    Little known trivia fact – I weaseled my way into your extended family’s good graces for the first time over Easter brunch at Susan and Maryann’s 11 years ago. I thought they were a fun bunch and hoped they’d let me hang with them some more :) And look at me, I eventually got promoted to a full fledged Casella!

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