'And above all,watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don't believe in magic will never find it.' -Roald Dahl
Each morning, my oldest checks for eggs. His eyes light up, his excitement is unmatched; the number of eggs doesn't influence the reaction, simply finding eggs is pure satisfaction. 'It's like Christmas, mom, like they're giving us presents!' he once told me. It's magic; pure magic, watching his joy from this simple action.
A few days ago, we dyed our first batch of eggs. I kept telling him, after this, after that, let's wait until tomorrow, it's getting late. We we're tired, my other two kids were fighting deep chest colds. But then I realized those were just excuses- it was an easy process to set-up, it was Saturday night, with no obligations on Sunday. So instead, I dumped too much vinegar in the egg shaped containers and he started dying. His eyes lit up, all of ours did. The duck eggs, particularly, were so vibrant. Perhaps it was the vinegar, or the egg itself, or maybe a touch of magic. It was a good first batch.