The Easter egg hunt went on for quite some time.
The girls found the eggs quickly, but that wasn't the end of it. They wanted to hide them again and get everyone else to have a go at finding them. So they did and everyone else found them again. Several times. The Easter egg count dwindled throughout the afternoon, either from being eaten or lost. There are probably dozens of tiny Easter eggs still out there, in the jasmine, halfway up the lemon tree, fallen down behind the rose bush.
Shanra is four and gets the game only up to a point. She hid her eggs in the open and when you went to look down the other end of the garden, maybe under the trees or behind the pot plants, she cried 'Not that way! Over HERE!' And there they were, all nicely laid out on the grass. She still laughed when you found them, as if she had been particularly clever in placing them in that exact spot.
Of course, Canisha had wanted the egg hunt to take place earlier but there's a time and a place for everything and the egg hunt is Definitely a Thing to Do After Lunch. Admittedly, Easter Sunday lunch can be rather a tedious couple of hours for a child anxious to combine two favourite activities, Running Around in the Garden and Eating a Lot of Chocolate. So when lunch was called - the usual buffet affair with casseroles and platters and dishes and tureens and plates and glassware and drinks taking up an alarming amount of real estate across two rooms - Canisha helped rally everyone to the meal, handing out plates theatrically, and ordering everyone to help themselves and Be Quick or You'll Miss Out. Then, a brief hour later, she prompted, loudly: 'Who'd like dessert?', like a seasoned host, just when it looked as though the pace of the afternoon might be slackening slightly and pleasantly; and as if no-one would be even slightly interested in taking a small break in between the main course and what followed.
So we gave in. We hid the eggs, sent the children outside with baskets to find them and our dessert and coffee was punctuated by the shrieks of the egg finders. I wonder if they found the one I deposited behind the cactus.
The girls found the eggs quickly, but that wasn't the end of it. They wanted to hide them again and get everyone else to have a go at finding them. So they did and everyone else found them again. Several times. The Easter egg count dwindled throughout the afternoon, either from being eaten or lost. There are probably dozens of tiny Easter eggs still out there, in the jasmine, halfway up the lemon tree, fallen down behind the rose bush.
Shanra is four and gets the game only up to a point. She hid her eggs in the open and when you went to look down the other end of the garden, maybe under the trees or behind the pot plants, she cried 'Not that way! Over HERE!' And there they were, all nicely laid out on the grass. She still laughed when you found them, as if she had been particularly clever in placing them in that exact spot.
Of course, Canisha had wanted the egg hunt to take place earlier but there's a time and a place for everything and the egg hunt is Definitely a Thing to Do After Lunch. Admittedly, Easter Sunday lunch can be rather a tedious couple of hours for a child anxious to combine two favourite activities, Running Around in the Garden and Eating a Lot of Chocolate. So when lunch was called - the usual buffet affair with casseroles and platters and dishes and tureens and plates and glassware and drinks taking up an alarming amount of real estate across two rooms - Canisha helped rally everyone to the meal, handing out plates theatrically, and ordering everyone to help themselves and Be Quick or You'll Miss Out. Then, a brief hour later, she prompted, loudly: 'Who'd like dessert?', like a seasoned host, just when it looked as though the pace of the afternoon might be slackening slightly and pleasantly; and as if no-one would be even slightly interested in taking a small break in between the main course and what followed.
So we gave in. We hid the eggs, sent the children outside with baskets to find them and our dessert and coffee was punctuated by the shrieks of the egg finders. I wonder if they found the one I deposited behind the cactus.
My grandsons had an egg hunt this year, but I wasn't there for it--I'll have to make do with pictures. Of course, they're really too young, and got the idea not at all. Their older cousins were kind enough to sort of herd them across the lawn and help them "find" their eggs.
ReplyDeleteBehind the cactus! I'm so unsure what to make of that. Sounds like some sort of Darwinian test where only the hardy get their reward. Or maybe kitchenhand.
ReplyDelete