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Here we go again. It’s been a whole week since Easter and the great-grands are still begging me to hide the eggs, one more time.
Fortunately, somebody invented plastic eggs. The mess of real chicken-produced eggs from the coop in the back yard that came to life thanks to Mama’s boiling and dyeing efforts are a thing of the past.
As a child, my enjoyment of the egg-hunting didn’t last this long.
Mama started the spring cleaning right after Easter.
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