Easter

For the record, I think long and hard about my photo captions. I hope you take the time to read them. If not, what-ev. Your loss.

Saturday morning we brought the boys and Nathan’s BFF Lauren to the community Easter egg hunt. Noah was not interested and walked his stroller around instead.

Nathan and Lauren, however, waited with great expectations.

The eggs were thrown out into a softball field. When the kids were finally allowed to “hunt,” it took all of 10.3 seconds for all eggs to be found.

It reminded me of my childhood. The Easter egg hunts were always at our church. The adults running the event would take a lot of time to strategically place the eggs under trees and bushes. Thus, it was truly a HUNT. It lasted minutes rather than seconds.

Or maybe it actually took me longer than the average kid because I was half blind and wearing hideous glasses.

I’m guessing Nathan and Lauren found more eggs than I ever did.

At least I was dressed to impress. Because that’s how we did it back in my day. If you were a little girl in the late 1970s or early 1980s, you sure as heck had a brand new smocked Polly Flinders dress each Easter. Shiny white shoes with matching purse completed the outfit. Always.

Thankfully, my parents remembered to take off my glasses for a few pictures. So thoughtful of them.

Always a lady, here I am picking the tights out of my crotch:

My mom l-o-v-e-d having her picture taken. Can you tell she’s knocked up? Because she totally is.

The following year my brother David was six months old and my parents forgot to remove my glasses. Excellent.

I spy pink peeps! Gotta love that sugary goodness. My kids got yellow peeps this year, along with a lot of other candy. Here they are right before we left for church. Note: no Polly Flinders or shiny white shoes. Times have changed, indeed.