Um….I think I may have gone a little overboard.
I blame it on a guilty conscience from St. Nick’s. I took that guilt that only a Mommy can feel – that feeling of wishing I’d done more- and I hot glued the crap out of it until it was buried under a pile of scalding adhesive.
Voilà! C’est magnifique, non?
And look at the hand-decorated eggs. I won’t blame you if you gaze at them for hours in wonderment. Clearly, American egg dying kits stifled my creativity when I was growing up. I feel that my egg-decorating gift has finally come to fruition.
Don’t panic. I don’t expect you to do an Easter basket for your child (unless you’re American – what are you doing with your life?!). I know it’s not really a British thing to do. I hear you saying it. Chocolate eggs are better, anyway. You’re right. And actually, we all know that The Duchess will be able to do absolutely nothing with those faultless masterpieces that I call Easter eggs. These are my issues – my glorious, perfectly-painted, egg related issues.
The Native has already said that every year he is going to up the ante and set me a challenge. Next year he has commissioned me to create a giraffe.
Mission accepted, brutha. Mission eeeeegg-cepted.
Happy Easter, everyone!