You see I had an old box of Easter Egg dye in the cupboard which Hallie had found. So being the rational, kind, sweet, even-tempered mother that I am, I yelled at her, sent her to her room, and went down stairs to clean the mess. It took me about 15 minutes to get the dye up off the floor, the kitchen table, and chairs. But once I did I decided that was that, and that my crazy Hallie had just played with the box and dye. It wasn't until I opened the eggs this morning to make pancakes that I realized that Hallie had in fact dyed eggs. At least she didn't break any.
I guess Hallie didn't get enough of eggs at Easter. We may have to start a new Father's Day
tradition of dying Easter Eggs for our sweet Hallie.