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easter egg hunt

Never-Ending Easter Egg Hunt…


This past Easter Sunday our two sons and their families joined us for the traditional ham dinner accompanied by scalloped potatoes, baked beans, homemade rolls and strawberry shortcake for dessert. You’d thi…nk after all the years and all the hams I would get a different menu request, but the food still gets rave reviews and of course, the price is always right at Mom’s Diner.

While most of the ham-comatosed adults sprawled into wicker furniture on the back patio—the Grand Prix, the Triple Crown, the Main Event, the one reason children get out of bed and trudge to Grandma and Grandpa’s house on Easter—the EASTER EGG HUNT was about to begin in the back yard.

Participants included five excited, noisy, already sugar-high grandchildren—two boys, three girls, under the age of 9—plus one lumbering bulldog named Gracie and Pitty Pat our French bulldog, the brains of the operation. Both canines stood by ready to snatch and gobble any and all dropped eggs, eggshells, candy and/or wrappers.

Grandpa’s two assignments included sending each child onward and upward to hunt at scheduled time intervals according to age. The other was to point out eggs for the two youngest to find and plop into their baskets before they were all snatched up by the three older veteran egg hunters of Easters’ past.

Grandma’s assignment—besides cleaning, cooking, clearing, washing, boiling, decorating, hiding and cleaning again—was taking pictures. I am and have been the family photographer for as long as I can remember. This might explain why there are no pictures of Grandma for the past 40 years.

The orchestrated chaos of exuberant, energetic children flitting here, there and everywhere—searching for those precious, colored eggs—lasted for a record 35 minutes! Sixty eggs hidden and 58 eggs recovered. Two eggs were recovered and eaten by the ever vigilant, ever-patient Gracie and Pitty Pat.

The children were then seated and arranged appropriately on the grass for picture taking and the bestowing of Easter baskets. The adults looked on, the dogs continued to circle, and Easter grass flew in every direction. Chocolate bunnies were unwrapped and devoured, entire rows of pastel Peeps lost their heads and tails, miniature candy bars dropped from quickly opened plastic eggs, Fun-Dip was licked and dipped and left behind on little red, green and purple tongues, and silver dollars were stashed into deep pockets.

As we watched these five happy children enjoying this beautiful Easter Day, Jaxson, the oldest at age nine, stopped and looked up from his basket. We watched as he scanned the yard in every direction. Next he looked at each of his cousins and sisters who were still sitting contentedly, sampling goodies from their baskets. Finally he looked at all of us adults, still seated on the patio, and asked in all sincerity, “Wouldn’t it be nice to have an Easter egg hunt where you never run out of eggs to find?”

Now wouldn’t that be ever so nice? May we never run out of Easter eggs to find nor the desire in our hearts to keep looking.