M. has been anticipating what the Easter Bunny would leave for weeks. So much so that I hadto remind him that it wasn't like Christmas. There would be a few candies, a toy or two, some colored eggs and that was it. He said he knew that, but I was still a bit concerned that he'd be underwhelmed or disappointed. I resisted the urge to buy more stuff. (Eek, did I type that out loud? Cover the eyes of any minor children who might be in the room while you're reading this!) What I meant to say was we left a nice salad the night before which the Easter Bunny enjoyed tremendously before leaving the parent-approved amount of loot. And everyone was happy.
P. pretty much lives in the moment (as far as I can tell anyway) and was more than happy enjoying the Easter videos and books that we got out of storage a few weeks ago. It's always a happy day when I get to reread The Country Bunny and the Little Gold
Shoes by Dubose Heyward. This is the first year that the boys enjoyed it too, rather than just suffering through my enthusiasm. They do like my other favorite, The Golden Egg Book by Margaret Wise Brown. There's something about that mischevious little bunny pushing the egg with his foot that just speaks to the souls of little boys, you know? And of course we had to watch It's the Easter Beagle, Charlie Brown. It's just not a holiday without Charlie Brown. We're watching it again right now.
We colored eggs twice, once with regular food coloring and once with the usualPaas egg dyes. Much to my dismay, both times everything stayed really neat and clean and only one egg cracked (D. did it). Part of me misses the dyed hands, having to repeatedly say don't drink it!, multiple spills and eggs that end up brown inside and out because they have a billion cracks from being literally thrown in every single color. The first year we dyed eggs the boys were both technicolor marvels and I worried it would never come off. I'm surprised that I feel nostalgic for chaos. But the fact that Superman X-Ray Vision Glasses were necessary for egg dying made me feel much better. Call me crazy.
We all hid plastic eggs in the house on Saturday and hunted for them Sunday morning. We're still finding them, which explains why we don't use real eggs.