So a couple of years ago, I heard a talk this woman was giving.

She described how her father raised her.

And basically, one of the stories she was relaying was that when she Easter rolled around every

year, they had Easter eggs hidden outside.

So plastic Easter eggs with different denominations of money inside them.

And she learned, I mean, as a young girl, probably like three, four years, five years old,

that the harder the eggs were to find, the more money was inside the egg.

And so she said when she was five years old, she learned her lesson.

She'd like, okay, no, she's all these eggs that were kind of like really obvious, really

easy to spot, easy to collect.

She ran past all of them, didn't collect any of them because she knew, like no, the hardest

egg is to find is the one with the most money in it.

So she tracks it down, finds the one, she works really hard, gets the egg with that was the

hardest to find.

She opens it up.

And inside was dog poop.

And she looks at it, looks at her dad who's watching her do this whole thing.

And she throws it to the ground, burst into tears, runs into the house, runs upstairs

into her bedroom, and she's crying there.

And her dad falls there because he's a good dad, even though contrary to appearances.

And he sat down with her and she's whaling.

She's like, why would you do that?

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