Took the 5-year-old to his school's annual Easter Egg Hunt over the weekend.And I would be slightly dishonest if I didn't say that Momma wanted to win a prize. After all, this was no ordinary egghunt. This was the hunt of all hunts, like bloodhounds trailing a certain scent, were kids to pastel eggs with candy neatly tucked inside.And then there were THOSE eggs.The mac daddy of eggs, the ones that felt empty, yet had a scrap of paper informing the child that they were the recipient of a large basket, taller than any 5-year-old, stocked full of donated gift certificates and items from local businesses. And while we parents were snapping photos of our adorable rosy-cheeked little ones, most moms and dads were thinking, 'Get the loot!' Any parent who says they weren't just aren't an honest bunny.My Hayden did what any kid does at an Easter Egg Hunt, talked trash with the classmate next to him. Both exchanged harmless jabs, as in who would get more, who would go faster, and who would take home one of a handful of ginormous prize-baskets. Then the Bunny appeared, but not without Hayden telling me, 'He isn't the REAL one.' Next, a ten-second notice that the Bunny would soon blow the starting whistle and kids can grab as many as their chubby fingers would allow, plus a reminder for parents to please stay back and observe. 10-9-8-7-6...'Go for it, buddy,' I told Hayden, and he smiled knowingly....5-4-3-2...1...and the kids were off!Except mine.Hayden stood at the Start line, frozen in time and had no intention of running after some silly plastic eggs. 'Go, Hayden!' I shouted with encouragement. 'You can do it!' He stared at me as if to say, 'You want the eggs? Get 'em yourself.'And so I did.Realizing my son wasn't going unless he had some help, I grabbed him and ran onto the field, picking up an occasional egg and tossing it in the bag while I had two or three eggs grabbed out of my hands by a rather aggressive brunette. A teacher from the school noticed Hayden's struggle, and began tossing eggs in his bag in an act of kindness.No prizes for this egg-hunting duo, but we did manage to take home some Milky Ways, Butterfingers, and Tootsie Rolls, to which Hayden shouted, 'Papaw's favorite!'As for the delayed start? Hayden explained that he was embarrassed, but couldn't wait to go back next year.Game on.
Monday, March 22, 2010
more like an Easter Egg Watch
Took the 5-year-old to his school's annual Easter Egg Hunt over the weekend.And I would be slightly dishonest if I didn't say that Momma wanted to win a prize. After all, this was no ordinary egghunt. This was the hunt of all hunts, like bloodhounds trailing a certain scent, were kids to pastel eggs with candy neatly tucked inside.And then there were THOSE eggs.The mac daddy of eggs, the ones that felt empty, yet had a scrap of paper informing the child that they were the recipient of a large basket, taller than any 5-year-old, stocked full of donated gift certificates and items from local businesses. And while we parents were snapping photos of our adorable rosy-cheeked little ones, most moms and dads were thinking, 'Get the loot!' Any parent who says they weren't just aren't an honest bunny.My Hayden did what any kid does at an Easter Egg Hunt, talked trash with the classmate next to him. Both exchanged harmless jabs, as in who would get more, who would go faster, and who would take home one of a handful of ginormous prize-baskets. Then the Bunny appeared, but not without Hayden telling me, 'He isn't the REAL one.' Next, a ten-second notice that the Bunny would soon blow the starting whistle and kids can grab as many as their chubby fingers would allow, plus a reminder for parents to please stay back and observe. 10-9-8-7-6...'Go for it, buddy,' I told Hayden, and he smiled knowingly....5-4-3-2...1...and the kids were off!Except mine.Hayden stood at the Start line, frozen in time and had no intention of running after some silly plastic eggs. 'Go, Hayden!' I shouted with encouragement. 'You can do it!' He stared at me as if to say, 'You want the eggs? Get 'em yourself.'And so I did.Realizing my son wasn't going unless he had some help, I grabbed him and ran onto the field, picking up an occasional egg and tossing it in the bag while I had two or three eggs grabbed out of my hands by a rather aggressive brunette. A teacher from the school noticed Hayden's struggle, and began tossing eggs in his bag in an act of kindness.No prizes for this egg-hunting duo, but we did manage to take home some Milky Ways, Butterfingers, and Tootsie Rolls, to which Hayden shouted, 'Papaw's favorite!'As for the delayed start? Hayden explained that he was embarrassed, but couldn't wait to go back next year.Game on.
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1 comment:
That kid cracks me up! I just love him! And I can't eat a Tootsie Roll without thinking of Dad!
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