Easter Sunday at church, lunch, dinner: today was our day with the grands, and a grand time it was, starting with their discovery of the kids’ corner by the fireplace. Legos, Play Dough, Hot Wheels, something for everybody. (Let’s take the Play Dough outside, said the wise mom, looking at the carpeting.)
While every now and then the three year old simply took off at a run across the back yard because we had the space and the fencing and he could. He and I played Chase Me and Peek a Boo that involved blowing kisses when you showed your face.
So. Much. Joy.
I told Hudson the chocolate torte was for his birthday this month. He thought it would definitely do.
I texted my neighbor afterwards, telling her, I don’t expect so but just in case: over at the half-high fence section, if you should by chance happen to find a pair of toddler shoes, the three-year-old was throwing things near there and there was no sign of his sneakers when they had to go.
She laughed and said she’d look–and mentioned that her son’s baseball had gone over the fence there a day or two ago.
So that’s where that came from! I told her the grands had been playing with it and I’d had no idea where they’d found it.
I walked it back over to her on the spot and we looked in the dark for the shoes and topped off my day with a great time visiting with each other.
As I told her, when I was three I floated my shoes bye bye down the creek in back of my parents’ first house. It’s genetic.