It was Easter morning, and time for us to suit up in our Spring finest and hit the egg hunt. We have a lot going on this year, but I guess that’s hardly an excuse as we always seem to be in the middle of work and a dozen projects at once, but as I’m finishing up work and we’re getting new carpet I just didn’t have any extra brain space to devote to Easter outfits. And Isobel’s closet is so stuffed with clothes of all seasons and sizes it is impossible to find anything except that one outfit that a well-meaning family member gifted us one time that naturally, I hate. Our friends Chris and Rachel gave us this white and brown dress for her birthday, and it is sufficiently floofy, so she wore it. Isobel’s kind of against any item of clothing that isn’t pink right now, but it was covered in “bubbles” so she went with it.
Black patent mary janes would complete the look but I could not find them anywhere. I’m pretty sure they are somewhere at Grandma’s house as that is the last place I saw them.We did have some white slippers that I managed to get on her feet (they were a little snug) and I thought all systems were go. Anthony watched her while I did my hair and apparently she turned to him, took off her shoes, told him they were too small, and put her “Mrs. Cat” boots on and waited by the door.
That’s the kind of logic I can’t argue with, people.
Isobel kind of has an obsession with her Hello Kitty rain boots (whom she refers to as Mrs. Cat), despite the fact that Jupiter or Poppy somehow chewed the loops off the tops of them. Leave it to the Moron Twins to find the least edible thing in the house and eat it. Take that, god! You don’t tell them what does or does not go in their GI tract! In your face.
For as much as she loves to wear those boots they are not the most practical shoe. They are prone to fall off her feet unless she’s actively walking around in them, which means we’ve nearly lost them in many a grocery store parking lot and have come close to abandoning them in restaurants.
As we lined up for the hunt an older woman noticed her boots and turned to us. “I see your little one is going to have an advantage on this wet grass with those boots of hers.”
Damn. My kid is smart.
Finally, it was time for the egg hunt. Isobel had a method. She’d grab an egg, shake it first, to be sure it had candy, then open it, tossing the candy into her basket while discarding the empty, obviously useless eggshells over her shoulder.
Anthony and I scrambled behind her, gathering her litter and preventing her from unwrapping each foil chocolate she came across.
One enterprising young girl was not going to let a little distance keep her from the prize.
The boots served her well.
After the hunt we found Isobel’s cousin Victoria.
The girls don’t really understand the concept of taking pictures together unless they are hugging.
Which is fine with us. Hug it out, girls!
They are pretty good at hugging now. A few months ago they’d try to hug like this and they’d end up falling down, legs in the air, crying.
They have improved to the “no tears” version.
It was a good Easter.