The spring fun began when tiny tots invaded the quiet of our old folks home for an extended weekend. Ready to run and roam after a long ride, they entered the house with energy enough for an egg hunt. My husband grabbed the bag of plastic eggs and began hiding them out in the open for the three pre-schoolers to find.
My son’s four-year-old daughter quickly began finding eggs under chairs and in shoes. My daughter’s almost three-year-old followed suit, tucking colorful eggs in her plastic bag. My son and his wife coached their 20-month-old son to find the egg laying beside the chair. He carefully bent over, picked it up and energetically announced his accomplishment with a big grin and a shout of glee.
After a couple of eggs, his interest quickly waned but the girls kept looking, spilling eggs as they wandered down the hall and around the kitchen and living room. Their grandfather picked up the fallen eggs and re-hid them when they turned their back to him. They never did find the egg openly “hidden” on the table lamp.
The oldest did find the package of egg dye on the counter and asked how to use it. I told her we needed to boil some eggs first. With some supervision, they quickly learned to dip and roll the eggs until the whole dozen had turned blue, red, green and yellow. Quite satisfied with the craft, they slid off the counter and headed to the toy cupboard.
“You have a lot of toys,” the pragmatic four-year-old observed.
“Yes, I do. I like to have people play with my toys,” I opened the door wide for them. Settling on the floor, the three emptied out the cupboard and played happily for a long time.
When we sat down to eat, the little feller grinned as his parents led a prayer of cheers for God’s gifts that included hands raised in praise. Throughout the meal he repeated the motion and cheers with a huge grin that said “I’m doing it right!”
When we ate out, his sister initiated a prayer song of praise and thanksgiving. No shyness of praying in public for her. We joined her in singing a thanksgiving prayer to God for food and family.
Their cousin, who joined them for the visit to our house, did not know that song, nor did she know “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot” when I sang it as I pushed the porch swing for her. But, she heard enough to walk away singing, “Swing high, coming to carry me, swing high.”
On the way to town, the two girls entertained themselves choosing and singing a toddler song they both knew. Then the three-year-old began singing “The wheels on the bus go round and round.” She sang about fathers, mothers, babies, kids and many others on the bus. She refused to acknowledge our hints about bus drivers and wipers until two verses later it was her idea to sing that verse.
Throughout the visit, the cousins acted like sisters – including a couple of power struggles and then joining forces against little brother. They insisted that the shopping cart with an electronic scanner – which momma and I bought at a yard sale for him – belonged only to the girls. We encouraged them to share with little brother. He scanned food until we handed him his favorite electronically controlled car and told him it was the girl’s turn.
The pretty pink dress momma found at a yard sale caught both of the girls’ eyes. When I slipped the yellow dress with a fairy’s skirt of tulle on for a fitting, little cousin said, “actually, I like pink better.” Yes, but actually it was about four sizes too large for her and a size too large for her cousin. After a moment of sadness, she looked down at the yellow dress, twirled and danced like a fairy princess.
Story time abounded during their visit. Any seated adult heard, “Can I sit on your lap? Will you read me a book?” Mostly the adults weren’t so much asked as used when little people backed up to a seated adult and plopped into any available lap.
Sunday morning I dressed all three for church. They looked like Easter morning with the little guy in a light blue romper and the girls in pink and yellow. They stood still just barely long enough for pictures before my husband buckled them into car seats. Then at church, we paraded down the sidewalk for everyone to see our youngest grandchildren before their spring vacation ended and they left us to the quiet of our old folks home once again.
(One proud grandparent, Joan Hershberger is a reporter at the News-Times. E-mail her at jhershberger@eldoradonews.com.)