Egg hunts look pretty much the same everywhere -- this one, on my Dad's side of the family, is just bigger and louder than most others (because I have relatives numbering in the hundreds at this point). Lots of little kids, lots of middle kids, lots of bigger kids. And, of course, the annual Keg Hunt, which is where the legal-drinking-age grandchildren wander around looking for little bottles with their names on them. It's fun. Usually.
Anyway, what I want to focus on this time is how, as the day goes on, Shae gets closer and closer to the Easter Bunny. Perhaps we are getting over our leporiphagophobia*.
Very close to the Easter Bunny. Not quite touching. Looking away, ready to escape, but still in a reasonable proximity.
Allow the Easter Bunny to touch her OMG OMG ZOMFG! You can tell that she is nervous about this, and I can't rightly say I blame her, because this particular Bunny is just on this side of Donnie-Darko-looking.
Standing right next to him, and -- wait, what is that I see when I zoom in?
HOLDING THE EASTER BUNNY'S HAND. Success! Maybe by Christmas she'll get over her whole Santa-is-creepy thing.
* = fake made up word that is supposed to mean "fear of getting eaten by rabbits."