Giving new meaning to Easter egg hunt

Yesterday's egg dying eggstravaganza

Look, Mommy, Hulk Hands!

We got up and raced to the Easter Egg Hunt this morning. I dropped them off at the start and went back to park. Just before the hunt started, I realized I didn't have the car key in my pocket. Any of my pockets. So Beerman said, "Let's get the eggs first." So we did.

A total of 8 minutes later, the egg hunt was done, and we were on our way back to the car, failing miserably at finding the keys.

So we called a cab, and Beerman rode home to get our spare set while C-man and I kept setting up his eggs around the car to create our own Easter egg hunts over and over again while we waited. Beerman called a while later only to inform me that he couldn't find that either. Sigh... keep looking. Call the police to see if they've been turned in. Pray to St. Jude to help us find it.

And then I noticed pretty purple hyacinths sticking out of an ugly hill nearby. My little Easter miracle. And I said, "C-man, let's go back to the park and see if we can find these keys again."

After some geese chasing, and more failing at key finding, we trudged back to the van. And lo and behold, in the middle of a random patch of grass I don't even remember walking by, there it was. My car key.

So you can believe whatever you want. But St. Jude is my man.