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Lesson Transcript

Easter
The smell of vinegar always reminds me of Easter. You can use water to dissolve those little color tablets, but vinegar really makes the dyes pop. The purples are vibrant and show off the white words "Happy Easter!" left by a clear wax crayon. The greens make the little pastel egg stickers look like they are lying in grass.
My daughter wrinkles her nose as I pour white vinegar into six glasses. She carefully deposits the dye tablets into them, and she watches in fascination as they begin to bubble and separate. Her fingers inch toward the mixture.
"Don't put your hands in there, sweetie," I say.
We are sitting on a plastic tablecloth set out on the kitchen floor. My daughter wears nothing but a diaper, and I wear old sweats I use for painting. I am prepared for Easter egg dye.
Later, we will take a long bath. I will dress my daughter in a frilly dress, socks edged in lace, and patent leather shoes.I will hastily apply makeup and pull my hair up into a loose bun. We will go to church with my in-laws and everyone will ooh and ah over the baby's dress. She will bounce around and perform for them, basking in their attention.
When the sermon ends, we will gather in the dining room used only for holiday meals and eat ham, potatoes, green bean casserole, dinner rolls, and congealed salad. We will sit and talk for a while in front of the television.
Through it all, the scent memory of dying Easter eggs will take me back to the kitchen floor and the look of wonder in my daughter's eyes.

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 Easter

The smell of vinegar always reminds me of Easter. You can use water to dissolve those little color tablets, but vinegar really makes the dyes pop. The purples are vibrant and show off the white words "Happy Easter!" left by a clear wax crayon. The greens make the little pastel egg stickers look like they are lying in grass.

My daughter wrinkles her nose as I pour white vinegar into six glasses. She carefully deposits the dye tablets into them, and she watches in fascination as they begin to bubble and separate. Her fingers inch toward the mixture.

"Don't put your hands in there, sweetie," I say.
We are sitting on a plastic tablecloth set out on the kitchen floor. My daughter wears nothing but a diaper, and I wear old sweats I use for painting. I am prepared for Easter egg dye.

Later, we will take a long bath. I will dress my daughter in a frilly dress, socks edged in lace, and patent leather shoes.I will hastily apply makeup and pull my hair up into a loose bun. We will go to church with my in-laws and everyone will ooh and ah over the baby's dress. She will bounce around and perform for them, basking in their attention.

When the sermon ends, we will gather in the dining room used only for holiday meals and eat ham, potatoes, green bean casserole, dinner rolls, and congealed salad. We will sit and talk for a while in front of the television.

Through it all, the scent memory of dying Easter eggs will take me back to the kitchen floor and the look of wonder in my daughter's eyes.