Plastic Grass- April 6, 2015
I thought that I had Easter basket grass already. I was quite certain I had seen bags of some pastel shade or another piled in the cluster that is the third floor of our house. I bought extra last year, not realizing you really only need one bag per basket. I got the paper kind last year, not the slightly translucent green plastic we had as kids.
You know the stuff. We found pieces of plastic grass wound up in our dog’s poop when she ate candy from our baskets. I was about 9. I was pissed. Why couldn’t the dog have eaten my sister’s jelly beans instead of my chocolate egg?
Well, I couldn’t find any of the paper kind left during my third Target run this week. I settled for the classic plastic, but in different colors for my kiddos. My one-year-old son made sure that I knew just how far the stuff goes.
This was after church on Sunday:
This was Easter Monday morning when I ran upstairs for two effing minutes to put my contacts on:
I don’t think the dog has eaten any, but I saw some hanging out of the top of Henry’s diaper after he rolled around the floor in it.
I took the mess in stride this Easter. I think it’s because I was happier and more grateful than I’ve ever been. I look at these pictures and realize that THIS is my life. How is this possible?! These people are mine and I feel like the most blessed woman on earth, even with plastic grass tangled in my toes.