Easy Easter Eats
Easter holds incredibly distinctive memories for me. The night before was always filled with tears as my mother pressed my hair with an iron comb hot from the stove. Every year I was sure she was going to burn me. My mother guaranteed I wouldn’t get burned if I didn’t move. Every year I got burned. I wore fluffy dresses against my will with ruffly socks – my only solace was a pair of patent leather Mary Jane style shoes with a *heel.* You couldn’t tell me NOTHIN’.
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