The Egg Hunt That Would Not End

bunny

Remember when all you other mommies out there gave birth? It was so traumatic and painful that after it was over, your mind sorta blurred the experience in your memories so you’d be willing to have another child after that one.

That’s what must have happened to me after last year’s Easter Egg Hunt.

Our usually family shuns public egg hunts, as lately there’ve been a plethora of stories in the news of thug parents bullying other children, or encouraging their own offspring to physically overpower other kids just for the sake of a stupid plastic egg and trinket probably worth all of 10 cents!

So we have the home version.  I buy a bag of plastic eggs at the dollar store for $1, and put 1 jellybean in each. (We don’t give a lot of candy to our kids. Yes they get a basket, but it’s modestly sized and with small gifts and minimal candy.) Sometimes I’ll put in a chocolate chip, or a mini-marshmallow, or a slip of paper with a number for a prize.  Anyhoo, the twins are mighty happy with what they get.

The problem is that Every.  Fricken.  Year.  there is ALWAYS at least one or two eggs that we cannot find.

And every year, I swear that next year, assuming we even have a Hunt at all, we will carefully write down the location of every hidden egg.

And we forgot to do that again this year.

So there we were, two kindergartners, me, my husband and my mother looking all over the place for the last egg.  Because wouldn’t you just know it – it was one with a special candy treat in it.  I couldn’t just swap it for another jellybean – this was an organic 100% all-fruit roll-up.  And I didn’t have another one handy.

Finally, after 40 minutes of dedicated searching just for that one egg, we threw in the towel and tried to console the child whose egg it would have been (they’re twins, they’ve got to have the same amount or it’s war.).

Eventually, when my stress-hazed mind cleared a bit, I idly asked my husband if he was SURE that he hadn’t hidden any eggs in the off-limits zone that included the toybox.

I swear I could have cheefully throttled him when he got a guilty-shocked look on his face.  Not a jury in the land would have convicted me.

Sure enough, we found the last egg, the child rejoiced, and the rest of us adults collapsed in exhaustion.

Next time, we are going to write down the locations of every egg we hide.

Next time, we are going to write down the locations of every egg we hide.

Next time, we are going to write down the locations of every egg we hide.

Next time, we are going to write down the locations of every egg we hide.

Next time, we are going to write down the locations of every egg we hide.

Next time, we are going to write down the locations of every egg we hide.

Next time, we are going to write down the locations of every egg we hide.

Next time, we are going to write down the locations of every egg we hide.

Happy Easter! Happy Passover! Happy Spring Equinox!

carrots

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