The Hunt for the Golden Egg & A Mother’s Shame

My family has been attending our city’s Easter Egg Hunt since my children were toddlers. The Hunt has always been eventful. There was the year when Hadley thought the eggs were balls and launched them in the air.

Oh, and I can’t forget when the organizers setup the course around the playground and Haddie preferred to play on the slide.

Or the time they passed over the eggs and ran in circles.

And then there was last year’s communist society Easter Egg Hunt where each child was only allowed to retrieve five eggs.
But this was our year. There were no quotas, the eggs were scattered on an open field and at ages 6 and 4 respectively, Hadley and Bode are in their prime. My competitive husband Jamie coached them to the point they were getting so riled up that I chastised him to chill out.

We ran into our friend Andrew from church whose toddler was in possession of the elusive Golden Egg that contains a special prize. Every year, there is just one of them placed in The Hunt for each age group and I was curious as to how they scored it.

“We were on the far side of the field when we saw the Golden Egg,” Andrew divulged, “It was sitting next to a 10-year-old boy who looked like he was going to swipe it but we snagged it first.”

Good thing, too. Andrew is an attorney and that kid could have faced repercussions.

When Bode was up to bat with his fellow 4 and 5 year olds, our little thoroughbred was the first off the starting block and snagged an impressive haul of eggs.

Next, it was Haddie’s turn (and this is where it gets ugly).

She was with some older kids–up to age 8– but I knew she would do well. She’s competitive like her dad and most importantly, she’s fast. She lined up and waited for the good word.

Then a lady came up to me and I blame her for my demise. “Do you see it out there?” she hissed. “The Golden Egg is directly in front of you at the other end. If your little girl runs straight, she will grab it.”

The rest is a blur. I spotted the Golden Egg glimmering in the sun and I showed Jack…err Hadley how to navigate the beanstalk to get it. Somewhere in the mix, the signal was given and kids raced to the field. Frantic at missing the start, I gave her a gentle push in the direction of our family’s future.

Only it wasn’t so gentle. Much to my horror, it was a full-blown shove and Hadley landed face-first on the grass.

“That’s OK, that’s OK!” I picked her up and sent her off but by then it was too late. The Golden Egg was clutched from its rightful owners (us) and Haddie only had a half-full basket of eggs to show for her efforts.

And a killer glare aimed right at me.

Next year, I’ll leave The Easter Egg Hunt coaching up to Jamie.

(Originally published at MILEHIGHMAMAS.COM.

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