Easter Egg Hunt, Hunger Games Edition
My family is, shall we say…competitive.
And by competitive I mean, cut throat, winner take all, Hunger Games competitive.
So it was with fear and trembling that I watched my seven grandchildren scour my sodden and muddy yard for the 108 eggs we’d carefully hidden.
Some eggs were real, but most were shiny colors with shiny coins or camo colors with candy inside.
Before the back door even opened, my oldest daughter laid down the rules:
NO cutting in on the little ones (youngest is 3, and so cute it hurts..no one will mess with her).
NO cussing (which was met with looks of confusion, and one “I won’t” from her 7 -yr. old son).
The door opened and I was reminded of the beginning of a Hunger Games competition. The looks of sheer determination were…intense. And that was just the parents.
Then I looked at the kids.
They looked determined to get ALL THE EGGS for themselves.
It was muddy, it was sloppy, it was chaos, and it was hilarious as egg after egg was discovered hiding under bushes, in trees, in wasp-filled BBQ pits.
They ran, like a flock of birds, first this way and that in a tight little group. The bigger kids not letting the little ones branch out on their own, all the while remembering where they saw eggs missed by the group and quietly circling back to pick them up.
In the end, we don’t know if all the eggs were found but there was no crying, minimal cussing, and lots of mud.
We got a couple of group pictures and traipsed back inside.
All was quiet until I heard a whispered, “So, what does the winner get?”
I couldn’t resist. I just couldn’t. I had to say it, I did.
“You shall receive income from the Capitol for life!”
Not one of the grandkids got it…but their parents did.