Egg-static Saturday

The sun made a cameo appearance today in the PMA.  Hip-hop-hooray!  Last year, we struggled to find an appropriate Easter egg hunt for the boy.  It ended up with him only getting one (real, hard-boiled) egg, which he promptly threw and later curb-stomped to show his disapproval.  That experience kind of soured me on doing the Easter egg thing.  Parents elbowing you and scooping up all the eggs for their 3 month old napping in their Baby Bjorns.  All the while, the kids who are actually trying to grab some egg are left with nearly empty baskets and equally empty tear ducts.  If I'd known the parents were going to have at it, I'd check your fanny pack into the bushes.

This year, the wife spent a few days trying to get me hyped for an even more local egg hunt in my old stomping grounds.  The second she said, "Brentwood Park" I kind of internally groaned.  I spent three years of my youth at the adjacent Lane Middle School.  They were good years but I vividly remember the surrounding neighborhood and the less than savory folks that live in the immediate area.  "But there's going to be a helicopter that drops eggs!"  Ok, honey, you've piqued my interest. 

A beautiful day it was in the ol' 'hood.  The smell of fresh-cut grass was in the air.  After we found parking (place was stuffed) we walked to one of the orange tents to register our kid.  Everything seemed pretty great.  The registration line was semi-long, but moved pretty rapidly.  We got squared away with the registration people and had 45 minutes to burn.  Face-painting?  He'd freak out and rub it off.  Easter bunny?  The line was re-donk.  Let's just wait for the helicopter to arrive. 

Putting on his best mommy cheeser face

They relegated the 0-2 year-old kids to the tennis courts for safety.  Good idea, except the wind blew the eggs to the large crack in between the two tennis courts and to the fences.  The organizers fixed this by picking up the eggs and dropping them as they let the kids loose.  Now this group of kids was allowed one parent to help them grab eggs.  I wasn't sure if my boy, who is pretty bright when it comes to getting what he wants, would get the whole, "when I grab the eggs they go in my basket and they are mine now" concept.  Turns out, he had absolutely no problem figuring it out after a few pre-hunt freak outs.

Turns out the whole thing was being put on by Hopecity Church.  Apparently they meet on Sundays at the middle school.  I don't know if I could go to church in the same place I used to kiss girls and beat up foreigners.

Examining the loot

He scooped up about 20 eggs.  It was super cute.  We all had a good time.  We turned over our egg loot for candy loot and were on our way. 

We then went for a little after-hunt brunch at McCrae's cafe.  I then proceeded to eat a 12-egg omelet, hashbrowns, toast, and 3/4 of a giant pancake the kid would finish.  I'm still full and it's 10PM.