Easter was our last official day of vacation. We headed out to the park bright and early for an Easter picnic with the Irishman’s family. It involved lots of grilling, amateur kite flying and a spirited game of kickball, which Parker picked up pretty quickly (well, once he figured out that kickball and soccer are not the same sport).
Here’s half the gang playing outfield.
Check out Parker in the middle of the field in the picture above – he’s quite intent on the ball, but that’s mainly because he wants to kick it. Badly. In fact, when his team got three outs, he insisted on being first up to kick.
His foot eye coordination is pretty good! Now run, Parker, run!
My mother in-law actually yelled, “Run, Forrest, Run!” And Parker yelled back, “My name is Parker, not Forrest!” Too stinkin’ cute. Anyway, the kickball game was played in the late afternoon and we had to make it back to my parents’ house for celebration #2. After all, there was lots of egg cracking to be done.
Now folks, I’m going to show you proper egg cracking technique, if there is such a thing. (My egg is on the bottom and my dad’s is on top).
Notice that I’m holding the egg pretty firmly – that’s mainly so it doesn’t go flying out of my hand when it’s hit. Also notice that my dad is initiating the cracking from only inches away. The point is to exert just enough force to crack one of the eggs.
Actually, I’m not sure if that is the point. I’m not sure if there even is a point. Regardless, it’s fun to watch the egg cracking tournament unfold. I’m not sure what is gained by the winner other than bragging rights (and let’s face it, there aren’t many circles that would be impressed by your title of “Egg Cracking Grand Champion”), but it’s tradition. Here’s Parker cracking his first ever egg with his Uncle Dean.
I’m quite certain that Parker cracked a good dozen all by himself. Oh and in case you missed it…I was the Grand Champion. And of course, Dean accused me of cheating. Don’t be a hater Dean. It’s just skill. And luck. And the molten lead that I put in my egg instead of the yolk. Here’s the winning egg.
I’m going to study it’s shape before next year’s contest so that I can gain bragging rights for two years in a row. Yup, that’s ambition.
All in all, it was a fun day. We packed it up later that night and then spent 15.6 hours in a car driving home. Parker took the long ride like a champ…the Irishman and I were whining like babies. And all was right in the world.