I love the holidays. ALL THE HOLIDAYS. Just the other day I was pondering why I had decided to buy those Fourth of July mugs from Williams-Sonoma. They may have been a poor impulse buy. But in general, I am one holiday loving, can’t get the decorations out fast enough kind of girl.
So it was with great enthusiasm that I signed our daughter up for three Easter egg hunts. Yes, you may be thinking that three is a little bit of an overkill, and yes, she is only two, but I wanted her to experience some Easter fun. And my description of how to hunt for eggs didn’t seem quite as good as real life experience.
Saturday was a hit, she had a blast. Bounced in a bounce house, sat behind the wheel of a fire truck, picked up some eggs, she stalked the Easter bunny like a TMZ photographer, it was a success. Sunday was a hunt for my mom’s group, and she was having a good time. There were live bunnies, bagels, what more does a girl need? When it was time for her hunt, she was waiting behind the lines, keeping her eyes on the eggs. The face painting clown of the egg hunt made a little announcement that it was just about time to start, and that parents of these two and three year olds needed to stay back behind the lines and let their children do the hunting. The second she waved that hunt flag, a swarm of parents rushed that egg field like bees to honey. I think some of them might have been pocketing eggs themselves. In the trampling, ahem, mad rush, toward the field, my daughter froze up for about eighteen seconds. And in that eighteen seconds, with parents wildly throwing eggs in their children’s baskets, the hunt ended. And she didn’t get any. And she sobbed.
Now this wasn’t the hunt for five year olds, and I KNOW that it takes two to three year olds longer then eighteen seconds to pick up two hundred eggs. But when you’ve got parents sweeping up these eggs faster then they are sweeping up the legos at night, you have to wonder a little bit. Is this where the competition is starting? At an egg hunt for toddlers? I heard the dad next to me telling his daughter that she needed to go out there and get forty eggs. Should I have been wildly flinging eggs at my daughter in her crowd induced panic?
Luckily, my daughter is still distractable and there was a balloon man. Nothing to heal a little egg disappointment like a balloon flower. But this hunt made me wonder a little bit. This was supposed to be an Easter party for toddlers. These eggs were filled with goldfish crackers, not gold. What about when we get to soccer games and swim meets? Do I need to send her in with tackle pads or are parents just that crazed for chocolate bunnies? And goldfish crackers.