I snag a hard boiled egg from the refrigerator in a clandestine fashion, and carefully keeping my back to the table, tap it on the wooden garbage can to break the shell. In a flash, Anne materializes before me.
"Mommy, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"
*freezes* "Um, nothing Sweetheart."
"Is the egg ok, Mommy? IS HE OK?!"
Anne apparently believes that eggs are *alive*, which is kind of creepy. She's always worried about something happening to them.
"It's ok, Honey. Remember? We eat eggs, this is their purpose in our house."
"But the BLUE ONE, Mommy, the blue one!"
I knew this was going to be a problem. This was the first of the colored Easter eggs to be sacrificed for my lunch salad.
"It's all right, Honey, I promise. We can color more eggs next year."
All drama, all the time, in the household of the Catholic Librarian lately. :0