I’m a week late, but I trust you all had a nice Easter?
Personally, I find it kind of a bizarre holiday, but I’ll take any excuse to gorge myself with jellybeans and chocolate.
This Easter was more relaxed than usual.
There was a nominal amount of yelling and no one had a frustrated breakdown over lost eggs.
Let me explain the importance of that last part.
Growing up, my mother took an enormous amount of pride in her annual Easter Egg Hunt.
We lived in the country and my front yard was really more of a field, making it perfect for hiding eggs.
Bethy, as I lovingly call her, had a great system. There was four of us who partook in the hunt and to make sure that everything was fair, she had a color coded egg system.
There was a series of about 10 eggs, each a different color and/or size, and everyone had to find one of each egg.
This kept things fair by insuring we all got the same amount of candy, but did not negate vicious competition which could have been avoided if we each were searching for our own colored egg.
The hunt was fun for about ten minutes, but once we got down to the last three eggs, it became a matter of blood, sweat and tears.
In part because we would all usually be hunting for the same color, and so the first one to spot the egg, also had to be the fastest to get to it.
Adding to the fun, Bethy hid the damn things in the most ridiculous places. Most parents kept the eggs in obvious areas, my mother found it more interesting to put them on the edges of brier patches, in trees, or hidden in high grass.
Matters were complicated by my mother’s memory, because every year, with out fail, she would completely forget where she hid at least two of the eggs, shorting someone and thus leading to the aforementioned breakdown that became a beloved family tradition.