I mean, c'mon... just look at that attitude. Will ya just let the girl hunt for her Easter eggs in peace? Geez, people. Was it not enough that I showed up in the appropriate Easter-themed nightie?
My parents were champions when it came to Easter egg hiding. A good hunt would take about 30 minutes, while a really good hunt would take months. No, really. It wasn't uncommon to find a lone chocolate egg resting on the top of a picture frame in July, or another perched atop a book in December. (It's a good thing that they didn't do pre- and post-hunt counts, or we would have driven ourselves mad to find the last egg.) Once the small eggs were all (or mostly) gathered, I would move on to the stereo cabinet* to find the big prize - a large chocolate bunny or, even better, a hollow egg filled with even MORE candy.
I'm sure you'll be happy to know that I have continued the tradition with the mascot. And, yes, my mad hiding skills have resulted in random chocolate discoveries throughout the year. (Although, I do have to admit to a small amount of coaching during the hunt. It kills me to see chocolate go to waste. Even sub-par Easter chocolate.) I'm not sure that it will ever be something that he will out-grow. After all, I am always up for a good egg-hunt, even at my age. I may no longer have the nightgown, but I still have the attitude.
*one year the big-ticket item was hidden in the microwave oven. That was back when microwaves were large enough to hold, say, a 16" stuffed rabbit named Lester B Pearson, so named for his penchant for sporting a bow-tie.
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