I take it back. I’m not posting about what I said I’d post about in the comment I left in reply to k on Tuesday. But I will post about it later…probably next week. Instead I’m in a mood to be a little bit more lighthearted. Hope that’s okay. 🙂
Until last Saturday, Nathan had never hunted Easter eggs before.
He was only a few weeks old on Easter in 2010, not walking yet so not able to hunt in 2011, and quarantined with the chickenpox in 2012, so this year was his first real opportunity. Our parish was sponsoring an egg hunt and family picnic so we decided to go. It was…ahem…not idyllic.
These first two photos are lovely, don’t you think? A small boy, a basketful of brightly colored plastic eggs, a tiny hand retrieving “hidden” eggs from the ground.
Except that it’s kind of a big fat lie.
We arrived a few minutes late (and by a few, I mean five or less) and the other preschoolers had already cleaned up. We found one – ONE! – egg in the preschool area hidden in a bush rather than lying on the grass in plain sight. A nice lady heard me say (admittedly not in a low voice), “Hmph. Well. We got one egg,” retrieved a few from her family’s baskets and spread them on the ground next to Nathan.
But even that act of kindness (and the associated photo) was marred by a kid who photo-bombed in his attempt to poach an egg or two (which he succeeded in doing).
Ah…a lovely scene, right?
Siblings enjoying a sweet moment on the swings. It wasn’t too bad, other than the panic attack I had when Nathan bolted, completely unaware of the danger of running behind kids who are swinging Really. High.
And then there was the seesaw.
The church where the Easter egg hunt was held isn’t our regular parish church – it’s an old chapel that once served primarily bay vacationers, so everything about it and the grounds is O-L-D, which includes the playground equipment. It’s like the kind of stuff I used to play on when I was a kid in the 70s – awesome, but risky. And splintery.
The hula hoops were the biggest hit.
For several minutes, a ten year old girl with dreadful balance who hasn’t the first clue how to hula hoop attempted to teach her barely three year old brother how to hula hoop. It went about how you’d expect.
Let me take this opportunity to point out that Nathan is wearing a green T-shirt and brown shorts – attire much better suited to a fall outing (and the long sleeves were way too warm). Sarah Kate has on some lovely spring-colored plaid shorts and a shirt in matching colors that Nana bought her last week while she was visiting on spring break. I’ll let the shirt go without comment and just say that I love the shorts.
Most every other kid was dressed in some sort of Easter-themed attire. Just sayin’.
If you can’t beat ’em, wear ’em! Amiright?
And of course no Easter egg hunt is complete without a yellow Vespa…
That’s the kids’ godmother, Cindy, showing Nathan how to honk the horn. Because it’s not annoying AT ALL to have a three year old honking a scooter horn at you over and over and over. But I guess that’s what godmothers are for…or is that uncles? I think it’s uncles. Godmothers are supposed to be good examples, right?