As is the tradition of this time of year, we celebrate the death and resurrection of our Lord and Savior by stuffing brightly colored plastic eggs full of instant teeth-rotting materials, "hiding" said eggs in 2-inch grass, and encouraging our young ones to get as many and as much as they can faster than anybody else so that hopefully they will become the "winner" of the prize egg.
At least, that's the lecture that my husband gave to me when we ended up on the Easter aisle at Wal-mart the other night at the end of a luxurious date. Love my man. :)
In good fashion with the commercial agenda, though, I packed up E this weekend and traveled to my home town for a really sweet little egg hunt that one of my high school friends' mom does each year. Last year, we weren't able to make it, so I was really looking forward to the "reunion" aspect of this little emerging tradition. And I wasn't disappointed. My mom even blocked off her very full tax season schedule (gasp!) to be able to be there. Trust me...it's a big deal for her to do that!
Looking at all the cameras, one-by-one, and saying "Cheese"
(none of the other kids care)
Look at all these kiddos!
Surveying the land of eggs
"Mommy, whatcha doin'?"
*love*!
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