the kindness of my parents

My parents are awesome about sending care packages. And I know it's a lot of work. Their dining room table is a resting place for goodies to add to a future shipment. They work as a team. My mom is always asking me if there is anything we need or want and she does all the gathering. My dad hunts for a suitable box in the attic or garage and he takes the parcel to the post office. They are forever thoughtful and we are so very appreciative.

Today was our lucky day. A big box of Easter goodies (and lots of Dinosaur oatmeal) arrived. When I realized it was for Easter, I tried hiding the contents, but Q immediately spotted this bunny motorcycle tucked away at the bottom.

It's now 9 April and Q has been playing with the bunny motorcycle for weeks. He has yet to realize that it's filled with candy. Oh the naivete of a first born! The other day, the egg part snapped off and he told me to take it to my office. I guess he knows that's where there is a growing pile of stuff awaiting repair. Later I told him that the Easter Bunny might visit on Sunday, and he replied sadly, "Easter Bunny broken."

Also no matter what the item, his first response to the question, "Who gave that to you?" is now always an emphatic, "Oma." And he thinks that anything good that comes in the mail must be from Oma.

From 6,000 miles away, my parents still manage to make a strong impression on their grandchild. I love that.