My grandmother's tulips.
My grandmother and I have an annual egg dying tradition, since before I can remember.
Eric wrote on an egg and dropped it in without telling me what was on it, left the room. I got it out a few minutes later and it said:
7-3 (the day we met)
2-9 (my birthday)
11-10 (our wedding date)"
Oh, he's a keeper. ♥
Granny's begging dog, Granny's slippers, my toes.
My triple-dipped egg.