I love the smell of dyed eggs wafting through the house. Granted, I know it's just the smell of vinegar...but there's something about that smell that reminds me of standing in the kitchen over the stove with my mother watching...waiting...trying not to break them...trying to get the color just right. And, subsequently trying to get the egg back onto that little wire handled device that came with every egg dying kit in the 70's and 80's (though I'm sure the kits have evolved over the years). While I haven't dyed eggs in a very...very long time, I am super excited to share this excitement with the toddler! We'll stand in the kitchen...I'll let her pick the colors, we'll set them to dry, then hide them for her to find...and so, the tradition will begin again.
image credit: back seat driver