(Yes I am recycling. This is a copy of my Easter Sunday a while back – when my daughter was 10. It is a Happy Easter Egg of a memory. Time moves on too quickly!)
Another beautiful spring morning. This is my kind of weather – with a sharp chill to the early morning. Just enough of a bite to drive the last bit of sleep from my head when I took an early walk outside. Today was a very early morning start – because the water I had way too late before bed decided it was time. Otherwise I would have slept longer on this wonderful Easter morning.
Besides, I did have to be up early to hide easter eggs for my daughter. I have a cat and that means I need to wait until morning to hide the chocolate eggs wrapped in shiny paper. Cat can’t leave anything shiny alone – “oh sparkly must get it!”. And then the enticing smell makes him want to chew. Not a good idea.
There is an art to hiding the eggs. One dozen chocolate eggs almost the size of real eggs. It can’t be too easy, nor too hard, and often in visual sight but blended with something else in the living room. Some hidden so you have to be sitting in a certain spot to see.
My daughter found 9 of the eggs quickly. ‘Is that all?’ she asked. <em>Isn’t that enough? I said in return</em>. ‘No,’ she said. Her answer is always “no” when it comes to enough chocolate. She is (as is most of the rest of the world!) a chocolate fiend.
<em>3 more, I told her</em>. <em>There are a dozen eggs hidden in this room. Hidden just like soft and hard-boiled eggs – some softly hidden and all are hardly hidden</em>. ‘I can’t find them. Are you sure there were a dozen?’ she sulked. I have to hide my smile.
<em>Of course there are a dozen. I hid them myself. Come eat breakfast and stop looking. Instead, you just need to see.</em> She gives me the same look all girls master as women. The ‘why must you be an annoying male look’. I can’t help but laugh and that just annoys her more. I make her some pancakes and a kiss on the top of her head. <em>It is my job as your Dad to be annoying – how else will you learn to tolerate boys?</em>
She glares even more at that remark – and then stares out the window across from her. ‘Oh! she says. She has found another egg. <em>See. Hardly hidden, I say.</em>
She stands and walks to where I keep some decorative Easter eggs. ‘Yes!’ she says pulling a golden chocolate egg from between the brightly coloured keepsake eggs.
The last egg is a challenge. She finishes breakfast and stalks the room. It isn’t until she flounces down into the armchair that she sees it directly in front of her. ‘Can I eat it?’ she asks. <em>Of course, I say with a smile.</em>
She gives me a hug, and then eats her egg. She unwraps it carefully – smoothing the wrapper. ‘Go take your shower,’ she says. I can see she is thinking and planning.
I come back after my shower and there is the golden wrapper colourfully embellished with bright marker flowers, and in purple printing ‘Happy Easter, Daddy!’ Along with one golden egg that she has chosen – just for me.
There is nothing that can make this day get any better. Happy Easter to all!