This Easter, my girls experienced something that kids who grow up in New England rarely have the chance to do: they hunted for Easter eggs OUTSIDE.
As kids, my sister and I hunted for eggs by crawling on the carpet, looking under sofas, inside cabinets, on top of shelves and behind the TV. We searched high and low for hard-boiled, colored eggs as well as the plastic, candy-filled eggs. And our hunt was conducted with the utmost diligence because NOBODY WANTS TO FIND A HARD-BOILED EGG UNDER THE SOFA IN THE MIDDLE OF AUGUST, AM I RIGHT?
Easter, 1977. I see green grass. Were my parents just too lazy to do a hunt outside? Also, I don’t think my dress or my coat are short enough.
After our morning hunt at home, we would put our Easter dresses on and prepare for the second hunt of the day at our great Auntie Millie’s house just around the corner. Now, Auntie Millie was savvy. She always had an equal amount of eggs hidden so each girl would (in theory) get the same amount. If one of us was having particular trouble (me), she would walk in her sensible shoes and spring-themed house coat over to a hidey spot and give us the side-eye. If we weren’t catching her blatantly obvious hint, she’d whistle slightly and give a quick finger motion to show us where the egg was.
I was never a good Easter-egg-finder. Which is strange because I tend to work pretty well under pressure. Regardless, my sister always seemed to end up with more eggs than I had in my basket. Either way, I can still hear Auntie Millie singing…”In your Easter bonnet…with all the frills upon it….you’ll be the grandest lady in the Easter parade…”
This year, we traveled to Texas for Easter. So after years of living in upstate New York and New Jersey where the weather isn’t always conducive for egg hunting, we finally got the chance to hunt for eggs outside in real grass! And by we, I mean my girls. Yes. The girls. It was their chance. Not mine.
Little one was more interested in finding four-leaf clovers.
Aaaaanywaaay. That morning, the kids were occupied inside while the adults hid the eggs. We hid them in the grass, on the fence posts, in the garden, in a tree, in a bird house, on a bench. Good stuff. The kids were bursting with anticipation. With baskets in hand, the door was opened and the epic hunt was on!
I’m glad my almost 11-year-old still finds this kind of thing fun.
This was also special because my girls don’t get to see their cousins very often, so to do an Easter egg hunt with them was eggs-tra special. (couldn’t resist)
Smile for the camera!
Picture’s over! Gimme some chocolate!
Texans have this other tradition that my girls absolutely loved: CONFETTI EGGS. Have you heard of this? Fake eggs – that totally look real – but are filled with confetti. You sneak up on someone and crack the egg over their head. The kids loved getting each other and the adults.
Best. Easter. Ever.
Good job, Texas.