No, this is not a book review. (But if it was, there would be a great deal of rhyme)
Actually, I put out some Easter decorations yesterday. I have little tins of plastic eggs, baskets of china eggs and some bunnies here and there. It's not a lot, but it's enough to make my son interested.
So as I'm cooking dinner, he pilfered all the blue eggs and decided to "cook" too. He colored a paper plate red so it looks hot to make a stove to cook. He happily spent an hour pretending to break eggs and cook them. He was having so much fun with his blue eggs. Emphasis on his favorite color...blue. I decided to help him dye a few raw eggs for breakfast this morning. Unfortunately, I couldn't tell which tablet from the dye box was blue and which was green.
I guessed wrong. So we made green eggs. And this morning, we woke up and read Green Eggs and Ham twice and then sat down for some scrambled green eggs (I added food coloring to the eggs too.) The kids got a big kick out of it.....especially since they had matching cups of green milk too!
I'm struck by a strange feeling. The feeling you get when your childhood memories are reincarnated....and you are on the other side. I don't have a lot of memories from when i was a really little kid, but one of my favorites was when my dad made green eggs for breakfast (no dye on the shells, just food color). His enthusiasm for the whole event made it that much more exciting for us to see our book come to life.
I remember that we would have pancake eating contests and brag about how many pancakes we could eat. 15 or 20 was not unusual. Not until years later when I was making pancakes for breakfast did I also remember that my dad was amazing.....he could get 5 pancakes in a pan without messing any up when he flipped them! Somehow the two memories never connected until I was an adult and saw the bigger picture.
There are some things that I may not ever recreate for my kids. I hope we can go visit my dad again so they can experience "fishing for kites". He would use old fishing poles for kite flying. We always pretended to be fishing. I found a picture of my father fishing with us and we were so young. sigh. I am a lousy kite flyer. He on the other hand, is AMAZING. He has stunt kites with a 9 foot wingspan, double kites, box kites, mini-kites etc etc. I can't keep anything in the air unless he is there. Oh well.
This wasn't meant to be just reminicing about my dad, but I guess that's what happens when you get older. Everything reminds you of something else. Maybe that's why really old people can sit around telling the same stories over and over. It's not the story....it's what the story reminds you of.