Get the eggs in one basket

As we go through life there are often certain times or certain images that stick in our memories.

As we approach Easter this Sunday, I look back on all the Easters I spent growing up here in Thermopolis and have to laugh at a few of those memories.

As an only child, for some reason my family thought it would be cute for my mother and I to have matching outfits every Easter, and to be honest, sometimes it was OK.

I vividly remember one Easter, I was probably four or five-years old, when mom and I had these lovely, bright green, pleated chiffon dresses with little yellow-flocked velvet flowers on them and a large, Pilgrim-like white collar.

I was so thrilled with the dress. When you twirled it looked so neat.

As always, we had to have photographs in the front yard before church, so there were mom and I in our pretty spring dresses, posing for grandpa...and “plop!”

Yep, you guessed it.

I now had a less than lovely decoration from a bird on that white collar.

Tears ensued as I now had to change out of that pretty dress and go to church without matching my mama.

And then there was the time when the Easter egg hunt at home went on for an hour with a constant flow of egg after egg, some looking suspiciously familiar.

My mom, ornery one that she was, along with my cousin Morie, were taking all the eggs I’d find and bring in the house out the back door and re-hide them, making the hunt last forever.

My advice for this Easter...avoid the birds and keep an eye on your eggs.