Yesterday, one of the kids in Sunday School broke one of my Resurrection Eggs. It made me upset, I might even say I was mad!

I know, it’s just an ordinary plastic egg, and if it was just any plastic egg, it wouldn’t matter. But the Resurrection Eggs are special to me…not the plastic egg itself, but I had hoped that the kids will see the Resurrection Eggs as something special, even sacred.

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When I went to college, I attended a junior college near home for one year, then transferred and lived away from home. I didn’t come back home to live until after I got married. My husband and I lived with my parents for one year while saving money to buy our first house. Living with my parents as an adult was difficult, to put it mildly. Honestly, I don’t recommend it.

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Family

With empty nest approaching for me, we are down to one child at home. With only 3 of us home now, without grandma or the 2 older kids, we are down 50% of the number of people in our house. I only do laundry once a week; I cook enough rice for 2 meals at one time because it’s hard to cook just 1 cup of rice; things are generally pretty quiet.

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French toast

Today I made french toast with the kids at church. Three of the kids each cracked an egg for the mixture. I was pleasantly surprised that not a single egg shell fell in.

After we mixed the egg with milk, I asked the kids, “What do you think we do next to make french toast?”

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