So. Did y’all have a good Easter weekend? We did. We did all kinds of crazy stuff like dye eggs and eat candy and go to church. I know, right? We’re wacky.
This year we decided to add something new to our Easter fun. Our normal tradition is to have the kids dye eggs, then on Sunday afternoon to hide them around our living room and have them find them. Then they get their baskets full of jelly beans and cheap trinkets from the Dollar Tree. I know most people do egg hunts outdoors, but we live in Iowa and half the time there’s snow on the ground on Easter. And also, this is the way my parents always did it. And I also know that most people hide plastic eggs full of candy and stuff, but we don’t. We hide the regular eggs. This is fine as long as you don’t forget where you put any. That happened one year when I was a kid. Thankfully, someone found it a couple days later. Otherwise I imagine the aroma would eventually lead you to its elusive hiding spot.
Our family has many traditional hiding spots, including one egg which must always go in Art’s shoe. Again, this is how my parents always did it. So children, if you grow up scarred b/c you had to eat egg salad that tasted vaguely like old socks the week after Easter, blame Grandma.
Anyway, this year we hid the boys’ eggs and then we “hid” Squeezy’s eggs out in plain sight and let her have the joy of finding hers first.
Now the thing you have to understand is that my children are not exactly awesome at the whole finding-stuff thing. They will stand there, looking straight at what you’re trying to help them find, and apparently not see it. This has always made Easter egg hunts especially entertaining. You can hot and cold and give clues till you’re ready to shriek IT’S THERE!!! IN DADDY’S SHOE!!! JUST LIKE EVERY YEAR!!! but chances are they won’t see it. The boys have gotten better with age, but there have been Easters past when I thought I was going to die laughing or lose my mind or possibly both. Which is why this picture delights me so much.
Doesn’t she just look completely airheaded? Ha! It cracks me up. It’s not really fair to her either, because she had just woken up and, having never before participated in an egg hunt, she had no idea what was going on. Once we got her going she had great fun gathering her eggs and placing them ever-so-gently (as I’m sure you can imagine) into her basket. Then she pretended to find them all over again while the boys searched Daddy’s shoes and the bookshelves and the window sills for their eggs.
They did really well, all told, with only one typical family fail moment when I practically told Stinky where an egg was.
At this point he still had no clue. Not even kidding.
Anyway. We got done with the egg hunt and the boys asked for their baskets and surprise! We had a new tradition for them! The ever-popular follow-the-clues-inside-the-plastic-egg hunt! Okay. So maybe you think that’s a lame new tradition and totally not something to be excited about. But it wasn’t my job to excite you anyway. It was my job to get them excited.
So yeah. Mission accomplished, I’d say. They did a great job. Bubs read the clues and Stinky solved them, although if you asked Bubs what happened that probably wouldn’t exactly be how he remembered it. We really only had to help them a few times. We made them run all over the house and outside in both the front and back yards.
(Clue in the mailbox.)
Squeezy spent her time while the boys were running about like crazy people eating jelly beans. Squeezy is a fan of jelly beans.
The last clue sent the boys out to the farthest part of the backyard, to give me time to put their baskets on the table. Our back door opens right into our dining room, so when they came in the baskets were right in front of them.
The last clue said
You’re almost done; the end is near.
From the back door, the way is clear.
I figured they’d walk in the back door, see their baskets on the table, be all oh my goodness! where did those come from? CANDY! and that would be that.
What I didn’t count on was the family trait of not seeing what is directly in front of you.
They were looking for another egg and totally did not notice the baskets. Bubs reread the clue like seven times. Stinky ran from one end of the house to the other looking for an egg.
They grabbed all the old clues they had left on the table, thinking they must be new clues. I am not lying when I say it probably took them three or four minutes before Stinky said, “Hey! Our baskets! I think the clue led to our baskets!”
(Incidentally, see that space behind my headless self in the picture up there? That’s my kitchen. The whole thing. Try not to be jealous. I know I would be.)
In the end, all was well. The children consumed unholy quantities of artificially flavored sugar and discussed how very fun the treasure hunt was. So I think it’s official. We have a new tradition.
Note to self: find large neon arrow to position attractively above the baskets next year.