The Hunt is On

For the past ten years or so, each Easter morning, we’ve had a family Easter Egg hunt. We didn’t intend to turn it into a tradition or anything remotely of that sort. I feel like already there are enough rabbit trails and distractions surrounding this unprecedented day in history. Already too much frivolity as if to sugar-coat the violence and cruelty of that day and today. No need to add our clutter to the collective clatter.

But, the kids were so adorable... they were having so much fun looking for eggs, and we were having so much fun watching them have fun that we kept doing it year after year.

Now that the adorables have overnight morphed into teenagers, the hunt feels a bit antiquated. 

They are too old for it. 

WE are too old!

On Saturday night, the eve of the big day, just to be sure, I slip in a rather self-evident statement, making it as casual as the yoga pants I am wearing.

You guys don’t want to do the Easter Egg hunt this year, right?

Nooooo!!! They cry out in unison. We WANT the Easter egg hunt!

 

The fact that they agree on anything at all during the season in life when just about everything can be turned into a WWIII-worthy argument, instantly grabs my attention.

You are way too old for Easter Egg hunt! We are too old! It’s too much hassle and you don’t even care.

We do care. We want the hunt!

Thus the decision was made and it was final.  The hunt was on.