Let It Rain

The sky was overcast all day yesterday, and we knew our late-afternoon Easter celebration might turn into a wet one. We gathered at my daughter Kelli's house anyway. As the women talked and laughed on the covered patio at the back of the house and the men tended to the barbecue under the shop roof at the other end of the pool, the storm clouds grew increasingly ominous:

(Don't forget: you can click on the photos to enlarge them.)

In a matter of minutes the rain began falling, the wind blowing it hard enough to make us all move inside:

Easter egg hunts, one for the kids and one for the young adults, were supposed to be the main events of the day. We waited and waited and waited for the rain to end. It didn't. The little kids didn't care. One of them napped through the storm, the other one played happily with toys that the bunny had brought him. 

The grown kids, on the other hand, could hardly stand the delay. "We could start now," one of them said. "It's only sprinkling."

"Yeah," said another one. "Sprinkling sideways."

They waited at least until the wind died down, then decided to begin their hunt in spite of the rain. Most of the girls had umbrellas.

The boys didn't.

These kids are competitive, and there was cash hidden in those eggs. 

They hunted and gathered until they were pretty sure all the eggs had been found. 

By the time winners and losers had been determined, the food was ready and so were we. Everything was delicious. There were enough choices that I could easily have stuck to my regular low-carb diet, but the side dishes and desserts--not to mention Easter candy--made it a carb-lover's heaven. I feel guilty today about all the things I ate that I should have skipped, but I enjoyed every last bite. And I'm good at dealing with guilt.

I suppose it's fairly common these days that even in the most festive social situations the techies in the family will find a comfortable corner and entertain themselves with an iPad. Our two did just that:

"Put your finger right here," the three-year-old "big kid" instructed. She touched the screen where he'd indicated, and he looked up at the adults nearby, his face beaming. "She's doing it!" he squealed with pride. "She's doing it!"

Another Easter comes and goes. The children grow up but stay young at heart. Life goes on. And it's good, so good.