Exotic yet ordinary

Little girl had her first egg hunt over the weekend. A real hunt with real eggs. Not the plastic ones, because by my estimation plastic eggs do not a real hunt make. Plastic eggs seem to be... cheating. Kind of. See, in my grand schema of things, "real" egg hunts involve hard boiled eggs, Easter Egg kits with waxy crayons and EggArounds and little color tablets that get all fizzy as they dissolve, stained fingers, and lots of patience. So, on Saturday, we took our daughter and our patience over to grandma's for an afternoon of dyeing, hiding, and seeking eggs.

Justin kept little girl occupied while my mom and I snuck off to the kitchen to tend to the bidness of coloring the eggs. I was very excited about this because as a child I myself was not permitted to dye any of the eggs. I could pick out the colors to be used, and I could wield the wax crayon but I was not allowed to use the wire dipper to color the eggs. After having the opportunity at long last to participate in decorating Easter eggs, I now have a better understanding why little Nanda was not allowed to do it. It's really messy. And it takes a bit more effort than you might think. Well, if you're trying to be all creative and crafty, anyway, which we foolishly were. It was during this experience that for the briefest of brief moments, plastic eggs no longer seemed like such a horrid idea. Pop 'em open, drop in a few coins or candy pieces, snap shut. Repeat. No mess. No hassle. But, really, probably no fun, either... So, we pressed on. An hour later, we triumphantly emerged with our pretty pastel prizes and grandma snuck outside to hide the eggies.



Finally, the eggs were hidden. We led Maya to the gate at the back of the house and let her loose in the yard to hunt down the eggs. Initially, she needed a little help to get things going, but after that first egg made it into her Easter basket, it was on. She high stepped her way through the grass, looking high and low (but mostly low), calling "Eeeggg. Eeeeeegggggg!" as she went. As if she expected the eggs to hear her cry and assemble.



After the last egg was collected, she plopped down to tally her Easter bounty.


"Uhn, oo, fee..." over and over she meticulously counted, moving the eggs from one side of the basket to the other. What's a toddler to do with eggs after they've been found, sorted, and counted? Why, you start clacking them together until the shell shatters. Naturally. Grandma rescued the eggs and took them inside to be deviled. And that was the end of Maya's first egg hunt.