It was a disaster. People practically knocked each other down trying to get to the tiny fenced-in area where the eggs were. Parents were not allowed in to help the kids. I guess all the first-timers are supposed to be born knowing that pastel eggs on the ground SHOULD be picked up and deposited into this basket you've been forced to carry. Parents were pushing each other out of the way to take pictures over the fence. These, after all, were plastic eggs. Not golden eggs. Not hundred-dollar bills on the ground. Though you wouldn't have thought that from the way these kids scrambled for them. We looked at this mess and I said, "We're not doing this. Let's go." The eggs were gone in about three minutes before we were even out of the parking lot.
I know Sawyer is young and there will be plenty more opportunities for egg hunts, but I really thought he would "get" it this year and would have fun doing it. So, when we got home, I grabbed plastic eggs from the attic and hid a dozen in the front yard.
Ray showed Sawyer what to do, and we both "egged" him on to pick them up and put them in the basket. He loved it, and so did we.
No doubt we'll try the big hunt again another year, but we will be on the hunt for one that is a little more civilized.
A 10-foot-tall rocking chair with two bunnies
Sawyer was not a fan of the bunny ears from the church craft table.
We're moving this hunt to the home front.
"Put it in the basket."
Getting Sawyer to hold the basket wasn't easy.
"Hey, look. Another one!"
Colors of spring
Spot egg. Pick up. Put in basket. Repeat.
"My basket's getting full."
"You can't hide from me!"
"My own personal egg hunt is much more fun!"
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