The kids participated in an eggs-tensive and eggs-cellent Easter egg hunt at cousin Quintin’s mom’s parents’ house. (How about that for a string of possessives? And apologies for the rotten eggs puns. They were there for easy picking, much like an unhidden plastic egg, resting by its lonesome in the middle of a lawn.) Our overall trip was as resplendent as the morning light: my brother Erick and his wife Danielle were wonderful hosts (as were Danielle’s parents and family), we indulged repeatedly in gastronomic goodness, and we were overjoyed to finally meet and cuddle the newest addition to our family.
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