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That means "Easter" if you're under age 10.
This year was Aiden's first official Easter Egg Hunt. Grant you there were no "unofficial" Easter Egg hunts last year, he was simply too small and single minded to care. My parents had sent an Easter Basket with the appropriate luminous yellow bunny and accompanying fixtures in all kinds of crazy colors. I presented the package to Aiden and goaded him gently to tear into the wrappings and get to the toy. (Like any self respecting parent would!) He came forward, patted it a few times, ripped the bow off and then toddled away - sublimely content in the prize still in his hand.
That was last year.
This year we went to a family gathering in Caledonia to meet up with other generations that all culminated in about 3 kids and 1 dog eligible for the egg hunt. The initial instructions for Aiden somehow became "grab what you want and put it in the basket Dad is holding" at which point he started collecting the bubble bottles (those jars of soap and bubble wands) and clunking them industriously into the overly small basket. Each time we took one out or tried to move away from the porch, he would put it back in or travel the extra necessary steps to bring the extra bottle. Truly dedicated.
With Daddy's cargo pants bulging with bubble bottles, we started pointing out the Easter Eggs that were "hidden" and cheered appropriately each time he put one in the basket. Aiden caught on and started to really look. The problem was that Easter Eggs don't grow back in the spots where you first took them. We circled the house twice after the hunt was over (nothing is ever officially over when it comes to an Easter Egg Hunt - not when some of them were real eggs and there is a risk of finding them several days later) and he continued to look in the places that he had been successful in the past. I can't fault the wee guy - at least it shows his thought process.
The really sweet part was how he sat on the grass with his basket in between his legs, and carefully inspected one aqua blue plastic egg. I showed him how to open it (at which point the chocolates all fell out) and how to close it. He spent a good 15 minutes in that very spot, opening the egg, tilting out the chocolates and then repacking them into the egg and resealing it. The way he always kept his little finger and up and the scrutiny he gave the entire process was endearing, if not a little zealous.
This year was Aiden's first official Easter Egg Hunt. Grant you there were no "unofficial" Easter Egg hunts last year, he was simply too small and single minded to care. My parents had sent an Easter Basket with the appropriate luminous yellow bunny and accompanying fixtures in all kinds of crazy colors. I presented the package to Aiden and goaded him gently to tear into the wrappings and get to the toy. (Like any self respecting parent would!) He came forward, patted it a few times, ripped the bow off and then toddled away - sublimely content in the prize still in his hand.
That was last year.
This year we went to a family gathering in Caledonia to meet up with other generations that all culminated in about 3 kids and 1 dog eligible for the egg hunt. The initial instructions for Aiden somehow became "grab what you want and put it in the basket Dad is holding" at which point he started collecting the bubble bottles (those jars of soap and bubble wands) and clunking them industriously into the overly small basket. Each time we took one out or tried to move away from the porch, he would put it back in or travel the extra necessary steps to bring the extra bottle. Truly dedicated.
With Daddy's cargo pants bulging with bubble bottles, we started pointing out the Easter Eggs that were "hidden" and cheered appropriately each time he put one in the basket. Aiden caught on and started to really look. The problem was that Easter Eggs don't grow back in the spots where you first took them. We circled the house twice after the hunt was over (nothing is ever officially over when it comes to an Easter Egg Hunt - not when some of them were real eggs and there is a risk of finding them several days later) and he continued to look in the places that he had been successful in the past. I can't fault the wee guy - at least it shows his thought process.
The really sweet part was how he sat on the grass with his basket in between his legs, and carefully inspected one aqua blue plastic egg. I showed him how to open it (at which point the chocolates all fell out) and how to close it. He spent a good 15 minutes in that very spot, opening the egg, tilting out the chocolates and then repacking them into the egg and resealing it. The way he always kept his little finger and up and the scrutiny he gave the entire process was endearing, if not a little zealous.
OCD comes to mind