"You toddled around your aunt's spacious yard in your pastel dress with lacy white ruffles, matching bloomers showing beneath. When you found one egg, you carried it so carefully. When you found another, you gently picked it up, and held an egg cupped in each tiny palm, then smashed them together." My grandfather chuckled as he looked at the picture of me hunting Easter eggs on Aunt Lois' farm. He loved to tell that story, and loved to see the adoration for me that shined in his eyes as did told it. I miss him.
Actually yes. :)
Edited version on my blog. This was supposed to read "...I loved to see... as he told it." Naturally I don't see those types of errors until after I click "I'm Done Writing". ;)
Oh, what a sweet story! Inspired from life?