How Green Is Your Grass

“Is it time mom? Is it? Can I? Huh? Can I?”

“Ugh, let mommy get a cup of coffee first.”

Jack plopped himself down on the couch as his mother dragged herself to the kitchen. He always loved Easter. It was the one time of year that he got to tear apart the home and not get in trouble. In fact, if he destroyed enough of the home and actually found all of the brightly painted eggs his mom and dad would reward him with a basket filled with jellybeans, assorted candies, and the brightest colored green grass that he had ever seen.

At least that is how it was in the old days. When they lived in the house. When mom and dad were still together.

Jack’s mom emerged from the kitchen with a steaming mug in her hand. A smile crept across her face. Jack was patiently waiting for her go ahead. “Alright Jack,” she said, “you know the rules. The eggs are anywhere in this apartment.”

He dashed from the couch looking everywhere for the eggs. Behind the TV, in the bathroom, he even found one in the egg carton in the fridge. In no time he was finished, the hunt was over. Back in the house he had to look for ever to find all the eggs. The search was always the best part.

His mom gave him a bear hug and a kiss on the forehead. “Good job Jack. I love you. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me.”