Eggs. eggs everywhere!

Eggs. Not my favorite food and to be honest, I always wondered why they were so prominent for Easter celebrations. After all it's the Easter bunny, not the Easter chicken, and bunnies don't lay eggs. However, long before I entered this world Romans and Christians shared the belief that eggs were the seed of life and for some they were symbolic of the resurrection of Christ. With that said this week-end hubby and I dyed eggs with P (2 1/2 years old) and B (6 years old.)

The idea is from Pinterest though I have done the same technique with paper in my card making endeavors. Actually, this is one of my favorite ways to just play with my paper. Rather than hard boiled eggs, we opted to use Styrofoam eggs as P has quite the grip and loves to toss things. Only drawback was hubby didn't get any deviled eggs for Easter dinner.

Assemble your tools... a dish or pan, cheap shave cream - not gel, coloring agents (we used food coloring here) and paper towels, LOTS OF PAPER TOWELS when doing with kids.

Spray shave cream in pan

Since they were boys, we erred on the side of more is better.

Drip coloring agents on the foam. A little guidance with kids or you get lots of one color...B liked green and P loved red. Oops, wonder who put that yellow in there...

Swirl colors lightly across the foam with a fork. 

Then hand them the eggs and be ready with toweling. We had two distinct styles at this point. B liked to roll his to the end of the pan and as he rolled, he pushed it further down into the "clean" foam. Of course, it was my duty to fish them out and dry them off.  Here's a look at some of his eggs and excuse the extremely light colors - they really are a lovely pastel. Overhead lighting seems to have an effect in most of these photos.

P was on the other end of the scale. Excited wouldn't describe how thrilled he was. Try as I might, I could not get a good photo of him with his eggs. His method involved throwing the eggs in all at once before the color was swirled completely, yell at the top of his lungs "Oh cool!" and clap his hands waiting for them to be fished out of the cream. Here is a sample of how his turned out. 

While I loved the pastel eggs, I was a minority. The favorite of the night using majority rules was P's very first egg 

It was so much fun, hubby and I got up early and dyed more to be used in the egg hunt later that day. 

Our only regret, we didn't have more eggs to play with. 

Parting thought:

“We are never more fully alive, more completely ourselves, or more deeply engrossed in anything, than when we are at play.”    ~       Charles E. Schaefer

Warning, hubby cooking!

In department stores, so much kitchen equipment is bought indiscriminately by people who just come in for men's underwear.

                                                                                     Julia Child

Since hubby is not working, he does the majority of cooking and dish washing in this household. I appreciate him doing so. Appreciation doesn't mean total acceptance. 

He has an annoying habit of putting dirty dishes in the oven. His logic is it hurts no one and gives the illusion of kitchen being clean until he gets to it. His application of this logic, to be honest, has taught me otherwise. Which brings me to Monday evening's meal. 

He fixed a lovely meal that included roasted asparagus. I could hear him in the other room, hunting for his favorite spatula that is normally located in a utensil holder on the stove top. Open and close went the cupboards, open and close went the drawers. Blindly feeling around in dish water. A dialogue of  "where did I put it?", "I know it's here some where!" and the occasional "have you seen?"  tossed my way.  After 15 minutes, he gave up the hunt. The asparagus really needed to be taken out of the oven. 

How I wish I would have thought to snap a photo of his expression when he looked in the oven. Or a video because his comments regarding his discovery had me close to rolling on the floor with laughter. 

I'm pretty sure you have figured out what was baked onto the back oven wall. Once cooled and removed here is his favorite spatula. 

I am thinking I should frame this, along with the plastic cutting board he put on a hot burner. Wouldn't they make a lovely arrangement...over the stove. 

He's being a good sport and agreed to my posting this. Maybe, just maybe, when underwear shopping I will skip over to the cooking aisles for a spatula.