Spring is definitely in the air. Warmer weather, longer days and tulips for sale at every grocery store I’ve been to…not to mention last weekend’s Easter holiday, which is generally a day filled with pastel colors, fresh flowers and hunting for bright plastic eggs.
We spent our holiday weekend almost entirely with family (my side, to be a little more precise). There was lots of food, lots of conversation and, somehow, an even greater amount of eggs. My husband and I headed up the egg dyeing committee, which meant that there were eggs to be bought, hard-boiled, set out, decorated and dried…which I always remember as being the easiest thing in the world. But the last time I dyed Easter eggs I was probably still in middle school and didn’t have the pleasure of cleaning up after everyone (and hoping that none of us managed to spill vinegar and food coloring all over my mom’s table).
We also, because of a large age gap between myself and my youngest cousins, got to participate in both an egg scavenger hunt and an old-fashioned egg hunt. Which were much more fun than I anticipated and taught me one very, very important thing.
My husband is an incredibly good sport.
It’s not always easy to end up at the “in-law’s” house, spend the day talking to an extended family and then, when you’ve been out of college and generally considered an adult for, oh, around six years, jump back in the kiddie pool and find yourself evaluating clues and running from front yard to back in your dress shirt searching for bright pink eggs.
But I’m so glad he did. The whole weekend with its massive amounts of a-typical activities ended up being one of the busiest, happiest weekends we’ve had in a while – and so much of that is because we both, and especially my husband, were willing to step in to some things that we might not be thrilled about on a daily basis (I’ll admit, my semi-joking response to my Dad’s request that the two of us join in on the fun was an eyebrow raise and a “really?”) and enjoy them completely.
It puts things in a different light, watching your spouse spring through your parents’ backyard hunting for clues and waving at you as he runs past, clearly having fun with the moment. You get to feel proud and grateful in a whole different way: proud that your husband is so stinking much fun, and grateful that he loves you and your family enough to do things that may be, on normal weekday morning, slightly ridiculous.