Every Easter, we'd go out to my in-laws' house in Independence and the girls knew just what to expect. Grandma would make more food than an army could eat. Grandpa would hide Easter eggs in the backyard.
My father-in-law was the cutest man who ever lived. Not much taller than me -- maybe 5'2". Baldish. Adorable. Every Easter, he put on bunny ears and hid those eggs. Every Easter, he hid them in the very same spots. At the bottom of the deck stairs. In the clothesline pole. By the stump of the tree.
Every Easter, my girls and their cousin Amanda had the joy of finding those eggs -- with Grandpa walking around the yard helping them until they were old enough to do it alone and he was too old to get around as well.
Grandpa would have been 105 today. He died at 96. Morris Harness was the very best kind of creative instigator. He instigated happiness. My wish for today: We should all hone that talent.
(If I find a pic of him in the Easter Bunny ears, I'll post it later. I was just missing him this morning and wanted to share.)