Easter Sunday morning came early. Our two little cherubs don't like to sleep late now that the birds have begun their springtime chirping again in northern Illinois. The Easter Bunny was good to everyone, hiding copious amounts of chocolate (and peanut butter!) around the living room. Miss Rosie crawled around on the floor to find her first Easter eggs, and The Talker skittered, near-crazed with excitement, from egg to egg, collecting anything he could get his hands on.
Funny, though: he found a peanut butter egg today when he took the chair cushion off to make a mini-fort. He was very proud of himself. Luckily he put it on the kitchen table and walked away for a moment, so I was able to sneak that Reeses-crack up into his Easter basket. For safe-keeping, you know. (Or until The Runner or I get a craving...those things are dangerous!)
Another dangerous fact: The Talker can read. Most of you know this already, but here he is, looking like he's 17, leaning on the table, reading the note from E. Bunny. Mr. Bunny has whirly handwriting, too, which I think is hard to read, but The Talker doesn't think so. And Rosie, well, she pretty much thinks anything The Talker does is hilarious and fun. Even when he's sitting on her. More on that next time.
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