Easter brings back memories of patent leather shoes, hats, white gloves, ...and throwing up. Let me explain.
We'd come to Monroe to visit my Dad's sister and family. Lots of great food and (and here's where the story takes a turn) lots of candy.
We lived 4 hours away. Ah, the puke stories I hold dear.
Isn't it strange how 'a certain' sight/smell triggers 'this' memory and 'that' reaction?
I'll get to the point. Don't buy me a chocolate bunny.
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