A pre-Easter poem

'Twas 3 days until Easter and all through the kitchen
the kids were coloring eggs and Momma was a'bitchin'.
"Next year it's back to the plastic ones," she said
"These dyes on my fingers - what a pain in the head!"

The children were happy, colored from head to toe
while Dad sat in the recliner and watched it snow.
A freak April snow storm rolled into the air
and the weather combined with vinegar dyes made Momma a bear.

"It just doesn't seem right to color eggs while it snows!"
and with that Momma finished a bottle of Jim Beam in one go.
The longer they colored the hard-boiled chicken embryos
Momma seethed and wished to the bar she could go.

Then the kids said, "Hey Momma, we made some for you!"
and on the eggs they'd put hearts and wrote "Momma, I love you."
She put up the whiskey and drew them all near
and said, "We're still not coloring real eggs next year."