Although I continue to pretend that a large bunny brings baskets filled with pajamas and candy to children every spring, JT has known the truth for a while. The Man in Red is still very alive for my son, but the Easter Bunny has been shown up for the fraud that he is.
No matter, as far as the boy is concerned, if a candy-filled basket comes his way each spring, it's all good. This year, Easter Sunday falls on a weekend that doesn't belong to me. So we are celebrating today, a day that we (blissfully) had off from school. We slept-in, so as to be well-rested for the morning's sugar-rush.
I filled the eggs with candy last night and when I got up this morning, I crept outside and hid them. Within the hour, JT was awake and ready for the hunt. And, as it turns out so was our backyard squirrel, a character we know as Pesky the Squirrel. Pesky has been supervising action in my backyard for quite some time. Daily, he taunts the cats from his post in the outdoor world. He regularly feeds from the garden and digs in my flower pots (and earns my ire for the latter....I plant with the assumption that the garden can be shared). Each fall, he eats a few of the bulbs I've planted and I curse him for it. But this morning, Pesky hit the motherlode: candy-filled eggs.
When we headed outside, Pesky was on the back deck in possession of an egg. He moved quickly up the tree with his egg (a fugitive from justice). And as we explored the backyard, it was clear that Pesky had proceeded us. The candy innards of a few eggs had been left in the grass while Pesky retreated with the big plastic eggs (no one ever accused Pesky of being overly-smart).
JT harvested the remainders for his own consumption. Pesky watched the action and plotted his next attack from high up in the tree.
The egg-hunter stopped to admire the growth to be seen in the hosta bed (a boy after my own heart).
The apple tree has yielded its first produce of the year.
And it looks like the freshly plowed rich garden soil has its first harvest.
Once the hunt was over, JT checked out his haul.
And surveyed Pesky's damage.
We agreed that there was still plenty of candy for a 9 year old to enjoy (and perhaps share with his Mama?).
Next up: french toast and bacon breakfast with lots of coffee for Mama. Later in the day I've planned a little Spring feast....but that's a post for the weekend.