Yesterday we went to our neighborhood Easter Egg Hunt, which started out well enough with fun games and prizes ...
But a 2-year-old's memory is tricky, and when it came time to hunt for eggs, it became clear that Eliza had no memory that the candy we'd been telling her about was actually inside the plastic eggs. After picking up about three of them, she started screaming, throwing them down on the ground, and slinging her basket (she's such a doll) - her way of telling everyone how P.O.'d she was that, instead of scoring sugar, she was being asked to pick plastic crap up off the ground. A blessed Easter experience, really.
Thankfully, things went slightly more smoothly with the boys.
Bulldawg, Batman, and Betrayed
This morning we woke up to this note:
(Ben insisted we leave a note asking the E.B. to tell us what time he came.)
And then the hunt was on!
Little lovelies headed to church.
Happy Easter, Y'all!
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