16:31 -- Anticipation...

Many treasures have been unearthed in piles and stacks and mildly organized areas of things upstairs in our office.  Old birthday cards, my bouquet made of shower gift bows that I carried down the aisle at our rehearsal six years ago, out of date magazines, and a binder of home interior ideas.  These relics are not what Reid focused on during one of his exploring sessions yesterday.

He liked the red plastic State Farm bag we were gifted with at a parade last fall...because it in, I had shoved an assortment of Easter egg halves.  I'm sure this happened in one of my, "We've gotta get this stuff picked up!!" phases that always results in perfectly forgettable storage solutions.  Reid's timely discovery led to just one sequence of action:  fill, hide, hunt, enjoy.

Even though Easter is several weeks away.

From upstairs last night, I was eavesdropping:

"Daddy, let's fill the eggs.  Mommy has N&M's left from Valentines Day.  I don't care that they're not brown, and red, and blue, and green.  We can still put them in the eggs."

"OK."  (Insert puzzled Daddy look here.)

"See we can just open them, put in some candy, and then close them back up."

After bath, and nursing, and bedtime, I padded downstairs only to find a white plastic crate on the dining room table filled with jingly Easter eggs...like it was in queue for a bigger project.

I awoke this morning to the doorknob flipping back and forth, back and forth, hollowly.

"Daddy!!!  I can't do this and the eggs need to be put outside!!!"

Daddy was gracious enough at 8:30 to open the freezing door, holding it while my barefoot toddler stood tentatively on the doormat tossing his treasures within a four-foot radius.

And, there they rest, like random jewels on an unexpected velvet mat.  Our velvet mat, though, is more like flagstone and patio blocks, frozen mulch and hibernating landscapes.

The house is quiet now.  The remaining eggs in the white plastic crate moved to the kitchen, as if the backyard will get the treatment after the boys' breakfast outing to Chick-fil-A.  Who knows.  But I wonder...how many times we'll have a mock egg hunt before Grandma's.  Or, is Reid figuring out that sometimes the preparation and the anticipation are a large share of any fun experience?

Write on,
b