A Windy Hunt

Today was the annual town Egg Hunt at the park. After a lot of restless pacing, waiting and nagging, it was finally time. We walked, because parking is usually crazy, at least for our town. We joined the crowd, complete with pit bulls on leashes (who, I'm sure, were looking at the crowds of children and thinking of snack time).
We got our goody bags and our pictures with the Easter Bunny (how many kids will have nightmares tonight??) and then waited at the starting line with the other mercenary parents and understandably ill-tempered children 4 and under who didn't get why they
had to stand and stare at the eggs for 10 minutes instead of snatching them up.
We were herded along the edges of the field. It was 2 minutes and counting. Then someone started a familiar dance. "I gotta PEE!" ??? He started to run off toward the fence. He was stopped by my HC. He told me to take him to the bathroom. The bathroom was a tiny mirage at the other end of the park. "But he'll miss the hunt," I protested. Ian squirmed and danced and held his pants. My HC crouched down and looked him in the eye. Erin bopped him on the head a few times ("Up up!"). "Ian," he said, "can you hold it?" Ian was faced with the inconceivable possibility of missing the hunt. Before he had time to answer,
the shout had sounded. The Hunt had started.

They had a great time and we got a lot of eggs, since we were at the end of the craziness (mostly parents).

Gramma and Papaw sent a little box to us and a taste of the steel drum concert (the island lollipops). They were a hit (and a dribble).