One Easter we decided to fore go the usual Easter egg hunt. My son-in-law had completed his pilot's training not long before the big day. The idea was to drop the eggs from his small plane into the alfalfa field beside their house. Everyone gathered in the field to await the grand arrival. All that is except my Dad, who having been a fighter pilot as a young man, stayed under cover of the porch. Not the rest of us. As we watched the little plane made a dry run. YeeHaw, this is going to be fun. He starts at the end of the long field and comes right at us, wags his wings, and starts dropping eggs. Even Elders can sure run thru the alfalfa when walloped by a brightly colored Easter egg from on high. The next pass it was only the grand-kids, myself, and the dogs out there laughing our heads off as we dodged egg bombs. Oh, did I tell you he was flying that little puddle jumper in a Easter Bunny outfit. C, your the best flying Easter Bunny ever.