We have a tradition of dying and hunting for eggs on Easter. Here are my little ones dying their eggs . . . and hands:
Ethan and I hid them in the backyard. They were so excited to search for their eggs. Well, most of them were anyway. There's always one, isn't there? (Let's just ignore the fact that it was me when I was a kid.)
Posing for pictures.
Go!
My Linkies was such a good little searcher.
And so was Libby . . .
Until she found a patch of wet dirt that commanded her attention.
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