We took Trey to the Wilbur egg hunt on Saturday with both sets of Trey's grandparents and his Auntie Em and Auntie Bub to watch the race, *ahem* I mean hunt. A little back story for you: Trey LOVES all sport balls. Basketballs, baseballs, tennis balls, etc, the Dude just loves them all. So, Blinn and I thought that if we showed Trey the eggs that were out on the golf course and called them balls that he gets to pick up, he'd get excited and understand the task at hand better than trying to explain what eggs were.
The plan worked perfectly! The fire engine's siren sounded and our little 13-month old was off with his Daddy to gather up the "balls". He did great, and retrieved six eggs/balls. His Grandpa Terry had brought a couple of real eggs and dropped them on the ground for Trey to pick up once the official hunt was over. Trey eagerly picked up those eggs as well. He put all but one of his most recent retrievals in his Easter basket. The one he saved he took in his left hand and said "ball" and aggressively threw it on the ground.
He definitely got the picture, but Blinn and I paid for our deceit.
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