A few weeks ago, I got a call from a very important Niece who happens to be the Mom of two very important Practice Grandkids.

One thing had led to another, so she and the kids were going to find themselves on their own, with energy to spare, on the weekend of April 2nd and were we doing anything?

Uh, yeah. We were hanging out with them is what we were doing!

It took another week before we all realized it was Easter weekend. So we double checked with Daddy and – though he would miss waking up with them early on Easter morning – he was totally okay if they still came up here for a couple of days of shenanigans.

Mac and Jack were all in.

My response, when my Niece/Practice Kid asked me if I needed her to do anything in preparation for Easter morning, was something akin to, “No. Nothing. I’ve got this.”, but I only texted that because I was in a hurry. If I’d had more time, I would have texted, “No. Nothing. Are you kidding me? I have trained my whole life for this moment!”

When the kidlets arrived, there was much talk around whether a certain hopping rabbit would know to visit this house, vs. their house. Being very wise and experienced, we grownups explained the difference between the Easter Bunny’s obligation to show up vs. his obligation to show up at your place legal residence.

Why kids even question this makes no sense. It just seems so obvious to me. Because, honestly, if you can hippity hoppity all around the world (or fly in your sleigh, in Santa’s case), and deliver all the easter baskets, AND take the time to hide all the candy (or candy-filled eggs), all within some sort of quantum-y, mechanic-y, time-bending, worm-hole-like travel system… well, if you can do all that, then it’s pretty clear that you are also capable of keeping track of your targets’ whereabouts on the fly. That’s just science. 

Where was I?

Oh!

So last night came and, when we finished the extremely important Easter movie (King Kong vs. Godzilla), those in the vicinity of four feet tall headed to bed. And, after we cleaned up, so did we.

My eyes opened at 5:45 a.m.

At approximately 7:52, I heard enough whispering from the third floor to know I could ask what the heck was going on up there. So I made a big production of yawning and stretching (loudly on both counts), and approached the bottom of the stairs and asked just that.

Well…

You are not going to believe this but the Easter Bunny came!

Evidence, in the forms of THE EXACT EGGS THAT THEY DYED LAST NIGHT, was presented.

With much urgency, I turned to knock on Mac and Jack’s bedroom door. They had to get up!

The kidlets had been informed of the importance of waiting at the top of the stairs, while JoHn and I assessed what was happening downstairs. Strangely, we figured it all out just as the coffee was done brewing. Go figure.

Once Mac and Jack and Mommy joined us downstairs, the gates of Easter morning were thrown open and…

Mayhem.

The absolute best kind.

Easter baskets with green ‘grass’ and a few special treats were waiting on the kitchen table, along with the remnants of nibbled carrots and a note that said – in no uncertain terms (and in a very bright pink) – “Found you! You silly kids!”

After jumping up and down upon seeing those, they turned to the countertop where a certain young man’s dinosaurs stood at the ready with candy to be collected…

The kids were ASTONISHED!

They started running all round the kitchen pointing at candy…

On the window sill!

On the teapot!

On the shelf!

In the candle cups!

Oh oh oh!!!

Mac actually had to tell them that there was candy everywhere, and to go get their Easter baskets and for the sake of all that is pure and descent in the world, GO HUNT FOR IT!

It was nearly an hour of glee-squealing discoveries and finding and negotiating and sharing and thinking they were done but then finding an errant peanut butter egg… or Starburst square… or Peep on a windowsill… or along a picture frame… or maybe balanced on the hinge of a door.

Then it was on to a pancake breakfast, the pancakes made into bunny shapes complete with banana slices for feet and whipped cream tails (okay, fine. There was also a trail of bunny ‘poop’ made from mini chocolate chips because…. well, because kids… and poop.)

And then, as quickly as the energy was turned up to the level of love-encapsulated chaos, it was ebbing.

A movie, seen many times, was playing in the background.

Jammies were traded for clothes and socks and shoes.

Bags were found and re-stocked with paper, pencils, folders, miniature cars, and the aforementioned dinosaurs.

We were careful to explain that Daddy would be looking forward to their adventure-laden stories – and all that candy – when they got home, thus heading off any tears attached to saying goodbye for now.

Soon we were making sure seatbelts were fastened safely, and a certain young man was attempting to convince us of his incredible (unequalled, really) self-control when it came to riding the next four hours with his candy-filled Easter basket on his lap. We backed away slowly. This was not a subject area we felt we needed to weigh in on, happily leaving the heavy lifting to Mom (whom we really love… but not so much that we would step in for her during that potential cage fight).

We waved as they drove down the driveway, and then the street.

And then hugged Mac and Jack and waved goodbye to them.

Now, a few hours later, the dogs are still in the spots they chose as soon as we came inside. Having played with, and snuggled, and shepHerded two little ones over the course of two-plus days, they are absolutely exhausted.

We are awake, but not much more.

But we don’t want to sleep.

We are busy reading a few things, watching a few things, writing a few things. In and amongst these quiet activities, our conversations are peppered with reminders of conversations and stories of the past few days…

Oh my Gawd, remember when he said…

She was so cute on that swing…

How cool was it when she said…

Did you hear…

I could not stop laughing…

Yep.

We are cementing recent happenings into the beginnings of lore, to be carried forward into always.

I love this part.

Thanks for readin’.

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