The weekend started with an egg hunt at our Friday playgroup in the coffee shop. I filled plastic eggs with nuts, shiny bows, little stickers and raisin and hid them in super obvious places (on the floor, in the window sills…) in the little back room where we meet.
So when we drove to Portland to spend the night with Lena, Kyle, Lila and Lainy, and hid the same eggs all over again, Gus pretty much had the hang of it. (Lena, do you have the picture of the three of them on the couch? Mine didn’t turn out.)
But he was still terrified of the doe-eyed teenage girl in the bunny suit we met on Saturday morning. It was a rainy weekend so they didn’t hide the eggs at the Hood River park like they usually do. Instead they had us line up and she dropped the eggs into the kids’ baskets. You could tell Gus was torn between his terror of the monstrous rabbit and his intense desire for the eggs. The eggs won out but he refused to be near her a moment longer to, say, pose for a photo.
Then we hid a few ourselves which Gus was thrilled to find. The were all traditional eggs, boiled and dyed so when we got home he insisted on having one. Dad and Charles showed him how to crack and peel one. And he was all, that’s it? THAT’S what’s inside them?
I struggled with Easter a bit this year. It used to be such a big deal to my Grandma and we’d have a whole ritual around dressing up for church, a big family dinner and, of course, the egg hunt. So I have these ideas in my head and an urge to make it special. It ended up being really nice to genuinely take off the whole weekend from work so whatever we come up with in the coming years, that’s a good place to start.