Never underestimate the bloodlust--I mean chocolate lust--of a three year old. These kids had their egg territories STAKED OUT.
My sweet girl has the advantage of age and height, and she ended up with an inordinate amount of eggs. Thankfully, she is pretty kind, as almost-five-year-olds go. Here she is donating an orange egg to Judah's cause.
Here she is keeping some for herself.
The beauty of 32 eggs is that they are easily divisible by four. Not only that, Yia Yia had the foresight to fill the eggs strategically so that when all the eggs had been located, their contents, too, would be easily divisible by four.
(Side note: I cannot for the life of me keep my train of thought on this post. Charis is fighting sleep even now, at 10 pm. First, she was distressed because I'd been at choir practice late and hadn't tucked her in. Then, she was distressed because earlier, on the way to church, she'd accidentally inhaled a triangular piece of confetti into her nose and it hasn't resurfaced. The latest protest was so laden with whines and sobs we still have no real idea what's wrong, other than extreme fatigue. Now, she's up in her room fake-sobbing, but we are not going to crack. And I am GOING TO finish this post, if it's the last thing I do tonight. For pete's sake. I have no fewer than six drafts of posts I was unable to finish, all dated within the past eight weeks--something's gotta give.)
So anyway, here's Charis, keeping tabs to make sure everything is tallied up fairly.
And here's Egg Inspector Number 1, Judah, in a coat that used to belong to his uncle. Or dad. Someone in that era, anyway.When it was all said and done, the kids did pretty well. Yia Yia included some candy in the loot (Peeps. *shudder*), but there was also fruit leather ("The other kids always got Fruit Roll Ups, and we always had nasty organic fruit leather. Gross." -Abe) and miniature baby animal toys and the like, so they weren't completely hopped up on sugar on Easter. Of course, we did eat Blueberry Peach Cobbler and Homemade Chocolate Pudding with Fresh Whipped Cream and Strawberries when we went back inside, so I suppose they probably had a little tiny hint of sugar buzz.
You know, it's important to me that my kids know what Easter is really for--celebrating Jesus' resurrection and the fact that He conquered death so that we might have eternal life in heaven--but a little Easter egg hunt with some candy never hurt anyone.
(Though I might hurt someone if Charis keeps carrying on like this.)
Goodnight, everybody. Happy Belated Easter.