Oh look, a weed, you say.

I see a flower, handpicked for me.

This morning, we went to an Easter egg hunt given by the local parks and rec.  We arrived at the field just five minutes before it began.  There were several hundred people lined up along a starting line of four roped off sections (for different age groups so that little ones didn’t get knocked over by big kids in the rush).  If you’ve ever been to one of these egg “hunts,” I use the word hunt lightly.  There are a few thousand eggs scattered in an open field.  Not much hunting involved.  Pretty much just walking and picking up.  It is this grand event that takes hours to orchestrate.  And it is all over in less than a minute.  The wave of parents and children carrying their baskets sweeps from one side of the square in less than 60 seconds.

Since we were  a bit late arriving, we actually got a better spot.  There was no room left at the ‘starting’ line, so we lined up on the side.  On the mark, get set, GO.  With that, we ducked under the rope and Caleb started dropping eggs in the bag (yes he had an $0.97 Easter bag).  I saw the wave of people moving towards us from the left.  Caleb was taking his time though.  Suddenly, he doubled back and bent down.  I’m wondering what he is doing.  Picking a flower for Mom.  He spent half of the egg hunt picking a flower for me.  He barely had time to grab a few more eggs before we were hit full force by the surf, caught in the undertow and overtaken.  Three seconds later, the rest of the eggs were gone.  Okay, everybody…back in the car.

Comments

One Response to “forget the eggs”

    Dianna
    April 13th, 2009 1:58 pm

    Awwww, how sweet is that? I think he’s trying to pay you back for the Herbie-fondant dilemma you went through.

Leave A Reply





How am I doing? (this is optional, anonymous, comment not required to vote)You rock: 0Drink came out of my nose: 0I need coffee: 0Is it bedtime yet?: 0You're fired: 0