A truly wonderful thing about having older sons is I now have someone to hide Easter eggs for me. I save so many brain cells by not having to think up creative places to hide eggs!
They got pretty creative {by necessity} when it came to hiding their Dad's Easter basket. From what I can remember from this scene, duct tape or some sort of adhesive was involved.
Receiving, or at least pretending to listen to, last minute egg-hunt instructions. . .
"Stay out of your Mom's gardens. Anything with candy in it will be split 50/50 with me. . ."
Just kidding. Except about the gardens.
What came first, the egg or the cat?
I'm not sure if the egg was hidden by the cat or if the cat came to hide the egg!
A Thomas Lego train. Sheer delight!
Found!
It took awhile, but. . .
"Remember to stay out of Mom's gardens!" Hmmm...is this a test?
Leave it to my husband to hide my Easter stash next to our electric meter, a thing near and dear to his heart. Leave it to me to check there first. I do know him pretty well after 15 years!
Baby pears!
The hunt complete! Now time for sugar overload.
Another fun day. And they all look happy and itching to start in with their stash. Love Gramma
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