Sproing!!

No, it's not even spring yet, although the weather here might have you thinking differently. And the fact that daylight savings time and Easter both somehow got put in some preposterously early spot on the calendar. But I assure you. It's still winter. Really.

As if to completely disprove me, the merchants association in our town put on an Easter egg hunt over the weekend. Both Main and State streets (Yes, those are really the names of our two main street. That's how quaint we are.) were lined with little plastic eggs.

We've been to several types of egg hunts. Our town even has a second one this weekend. Although the kids are very cute. Often dressed up in their little Easter outfits, all of the other egg hunts I've been to have been horror shows, especially for us. My kids are still kinda small, they're not really aggressive or overly competitive. At one hunt we went to last year, I think one of them actually got an egg. It's sad and it's the most incredible show of greed I've ever seen. There are always instructions to take no more than 3 or 5 eggs. What accounts for all the 8-year-olds with baskets brimming over? I hate it. I'm boycotting from now on.

The hunt downtown is way more fun. The streets are long enough that you can sort of find a place to hang out until the siren goes at 10am. You only get 5 eggs, if you play by the rules. Mam even voluntarily put one of hers back when she counted at there were six. Those are the kind of kids I have. It makes me happy. But what's even happier is that no kid who's there at the start of the hunt goes away without the maximum number of eggs. There are plenty and even the little kids get their share.
My kids aren't so little anymore, not compared to the first time I took Mam to this hunt.
It's funny to think about other parents feeling intimidated by my sweet little things, but I try to remember what a kindergartener looked like to me when I had a 2-year-old. Life is crazy that way. My kindergartener still looks like a sweet little kid to me. Just two years ago, I might've thought he was Goliath! Fortunately, he's still a sweetie...at least when it comes to littler kids who aren't Mam.

Harry Potter Arrives!

Our little town ranked #77 in the nation on Amazon's list of Harry Potter-est towns. It's kind of hard to imagine our little community being that into books that are ostensibly for children. Even though it prides itself on having an excellent school district, it still maintains a slightly-too-upscale downtown for doing any real shopping and restaurants too pricey for a casual dinner. Then again, despite the prices, some folks around here seem to think they're just fine for casual dining. Must be something about the slightly-too-high average income around here. But check this out... Know what this picture is?

This is Main Street on Friday, June 20th and yes, that's a movie screen in the middle of the street. And if you look carefully, you can see rows of folding chairs set up in front of it. The movie doesn't start for another hour or two. And what would it be on this particular date besides Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. It was just a little entertainment to help pass the time as the crowd waited for our local bookstore to open at midnight to get the latest and final installment in the best-selling series from Britain.

Not only did they shut down Main Street for the movie, but there was a big inflatable slide (with Smunch) and there were two bouncy houses. There was face painting (for $7 a pop) and there were fake tattoos. There was Bertie Bott's Ice Cream (a poorly disguised Baskin Robbin's booth).

And everywhere there were people...regular ol' people from a slightly snooty little town...dressed as wizards and witches. They had brooms (no doubt emblazoned with 'Nimbus 2000') and lighting bolts drawn on their foreheads.

Smunch and Mam were only slightly amused once the fun with the slide and bouncy houses were done, so we took them to the real Baskin Robbins for some ice cream (Bertie Bott's sold only sundaes with vanilla ice cream) and headed home. I tried to explain to Smunch why this was a big day and how excited all these people were. I don't think he really got it.

I got it. I secretly wish to be a child again so I could go to these midnight parties and stay up all night reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. But no. I get to go home and perform...yet again...our elaborate bedtime ritual, mercifully cut short since we were out past bedtime.

I ordered my own copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows back in...uh...(should I admit this?)...April. Although I passed up Amazon's offer to guarantee a Saturday delivery if I wanted to pay for shipping, I secretly hoped that the Owl Post would magically arrive on Saturday and deposit my book in the mailbox. What do you know? Those owls are really something. I was so excited to get my book that I actually believe it's a pity no one saw me bouncing back to the house with my box.

So, here it is. THE BOOK. I like having it. It makes me feel like a true fan, despite missing out on the midnight parties. I'm in the middle of another book right now, so I'm not going to start it right away. But I have it and it makes me feel all warm inside. There's a teeny little part of me that doesn't really want to read it. I don't know what happens. (Don't you dare tell me.) But I know Harry Potter lives again in that book. And once it's over? Who knows?

On a side note, Daddy is now reading a little bit of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone to Smunch every night. Smunch seems to like it. I just wish he'd been old enough to take him to the midnight party on Friday. If I can't be a kid again, I'd at least like to see Smunch excited that he's got a mom cool enough to take him to these things. Hopefully, J.K. Rowling, or some equally talented writer, has something else awesome in store for us in the next few years.