Easter eggs- Gabrielle

So, today Mom introduced us to this "fun thing" called dying Easter eggs. It almost killed me.

Here's the thing- I'm two. I'm a growing girl who, after many months of pickiness, is just now discovering the wonders of food. And my newest favorite food- omelets. So Mom says we're going to color eggs and I'm thinking FEAST! But instead of a nice, fluffy, yummy slab of egg wrapped around delicious cheese she hands me this little ovoid thing. I thought it was an egg, and I wanted to show my dissatisfaction with the fact it was not in omelet form. So I threw it on the floor. It didn't even break and spray yolk all over the kitchen like it usually does! I don't know what that thing was, but I don't appreciate being told it was an egg.

Then Mom pulls a chair up to the island for Josiah to stand on while she's "mixing the dye" and tells me, "I'll get you a chair in a minute, Gabs, when we're ready." Oh, yes, she did. Like I'm standing for that nonsense. So I push my own chair over and climb on up. And, just like I suspected, I discover that she's trying to give Josiah some beautiful, shiny drinks of all sorts of colors! Why wouldn't I get some pretty drinks in some pretty cups!! Just to show her who's boss, I picked up the blue cup and proceeded to drink it. Now, I'll be the first to say, it really didn't smell very good. Mom and Grandma kept yelling things like "Gabby, no, it's vinegar, you won't like it!" (while Grandpa just kept walking around laughing and taking pictures- I'm not so sure about that guy...) Yeah, whatever. All I can think is "You always tell me I'll like things I don't like (remember the spinach disaster??)" so I'm not even slowing down. But I swear, those two women are quick. Every time I got that cup up to my mouth, they just got it away from me. I did manage to spill some pretty blue drink on the island, the floor and my clothes, so it wasn't a completely wasted effort.

After a few minutes of this, I noticed something strange- Josiah was having fun with those "eggs." He had put one in a cup and was stirring it all around. So now I realize he has a spoon, too! No one gave me a spoon! Well, I got me a spoon, all right. There was some drama about it being in a cup of some pink drink with an egg already on it, and how I was going to spill everything, blah blah blah, but I honestly wasn't really paying attention. Once I got my spoon, I put my "egg" in my blue drink and stirred. That was fun!

But, of course, those crazy women just can't leave well enough alone. They start in with, "Gabby, don't you want to color another egg? Wouldn't you like a pink egg, too? Look, this cup can make an egg orange!" Like I was even buying that "egg" nonsense. I knew what they were up to- they liked my blue drink, regreted they let me have it, and were going to take it from me. So any time they got close, I just yelled "Mine!" and picked up the blue drink cup. That backed them off... But then they started up again, "Gabby, don't put your hand in the cup! Gabby, don't pick up the egg with your hand! Gabby, don't rub the egg all over the front of your dress / face /hair, you're turning everything blue!" Geez, people, give it a rest!

After spilling my blue drink all over myself and everything near me in protest, they took away my "egg." Well, you know what? That was the last straw. There's only so much a girl can be expected to take, after all. I very carefully and explicitly expressed my anger and disappointment. But that did not get me my egg back. I gave my best "poor little tortured girl" face and cry, and still no egg. So I had no choice. I threw myself on the floor and delivered my absolute best tantrum to date. And you know what happened? I looked up and there is my Mom, laughing at me and TAKING PICTURES! Like she was enjoying this! And she probably was, the psycho.

Grandma eventually came to my rescue and took me to the bathroom. She got most of the dye off, but I still had a faint tint of blue on my face for a day or so. Grandma rocked me and sang to me while Mom finished torturing Josiah with the rest of the "eggs." I worry about that kid, though, he seemed to like it. Whatever. I ended up with the best part of the deal, I nice long rocking spell with Grandma. He can keep that pretty drink and "egg" thing, next year just give me the candy.