Hunting Eggs and Busting Myths

Days after Easter was officially over, we celebrated with a final "spring egg hunt".  Overkill?  Maybe.  I'm a self-confessed holiday junkie, though, so I don't mind squeezing each bit of magic and excitement out of a holiday, stretching them into preparations and celebrations that last long enough to see the next one looming on the horizon.

Abbey happily toted their Easter baskets on her lap as we trekked over to a neighborhood park in the big double stroller, feeling a little sentimental and weepy about how much heavier they were to push this year, little people ready to find eggs and nosh on candy before lunch.

Dylan cracked open an egg almost immediately, spilling M & M's into his little basket, more colorful with their red and blue shells than the packets from my childhood.  He carefully chose a blue morsel, but kept it gripped in his hand while searching around for a glimpse of his sister. 

I can attest that the old slogan, "melts in your mouth, not in your hand" isn't technically true.  When the hand is the tightly-clenched, chubby fist of a toddler running and stumbling around a park, the candy does, indeed, melt in your hand, leaving trails of blue dye and warm chocolate clinging to faces and fingers and clothes.

Thankfully blue and brown blend right in with his usual streaks of dirt that we are inevitably cleaning after a park visit.

the egg containing the myth-busting m & m's 

his favorite egg, even though he needed both hands to hold it 

pink AND metallic, it was practically custom made for her