Like so many other people celebrating Easter celebrations this past weekend, our house was no different as our celebrations included an Easter egg hunt. Well before everyone thinks this is a just a “little kid” activity … think again. Yep, the children who now tower over me (a full 6 inches and I stand at 5’11”) who cannot be found unless they want the car, need a ride (a loan or bail money to be posted…same difference) apparently still care about hunting for Easter eggs! Seriously… I had no idea. (??)
In order to keep the playing field fair we start with the youngest child (2 years old) who is given a “head start” and allowed to take her paper cup and run through the main level of the house looking for eggs within easy reach (ones the “Easter Bunny” left on and near the floor, on the stairs, etc.,.) Then each subsequent child is allowed to join the fun at 30 second intervals until the place is jumping with kids running and tripping over everyone trying to secure the most eggs.
The “cool” teenager crowd would not be caught dead actually hunting/collecting the eggs (with the exception of the unbashful-and-soon-to-be-15-year-old running barefoot and jumping over furniture in his way)! No these older offspring prefer to lay around in their rooms (hopefully AFTER attending church) after loudly expressing notions that chocolate for Easter is a pagan custom.(!!) To which they further indicate that they will not be taking part in the unhealthy ritual of plying the little children with copious amounts of sugar to celebrate what is in essence a religious holiday. (!!) Okay!
I am good with that…more chocolate and goodies for the rest of us…that is until the next morning. Suddenly all the spoils of the industrious egg-hunters from the day before are missing. Hmmmm? This pillaging of goodies has occurred in spite of the stash being well-hidden under parental supervision (and NO.… “the parents” were NOT the culprits this time…ok…Halloween…that is a different story).
There is not a trace of any evidence leading to any of the suspects. Day Two is all about how the older children feel that somehow Easter passed them by because they did not have any chocolate (although each child regardless of age does have a basket of their own set at their place at the table and each basket had goodies in that basket that were NOT part of the egg hunt)!
In a moment of rare guilt I go to my secret hiding spot to locate my basket (yes…don’t think for one moment that I can wash the amount of laundry I do for this crowd and not at least benefit from some chocolate in my basket) to share some of my loot. Alas, the basket has been picked clean…not a trace of even a wisp of Easter grass. The goodies missing include… Ferrero Rocher chocolate, malt eggs, chocolate eggs, Cadbury….all very modest bribes considering the range of concierge services I provide for this lot. So now the parent’s loot has been plundered, the kids’ stuff is missing with the exception of a bag of partly melted, chewed up chocolate eggs that have been carried everywhere (including the bathtub) by the 2-year-old! Where has all of Easter candy gone?
Questioning the usual teenage suspects only leads to each child trying to incriminate the other. The better part of $XX.xx in chocolate cannot have disappeared into thin air? No one is saying anything. Days later it is just as the expression goes… “It all comes out in the wash.”
Yep, as I turn the pockets inside out and investigate every square inch of laundry for items dangerous to the longevity of the one item I worship (the washing machine) I discover that along with the chewed up paper (and bits of Kleenex, marbles, batteries, paper clips and gum wrappers)…low and behold the tiniest crumpled bits of the remnants of what used to be foil wrapped chocolate Easter eggs.(!!)
Gotcha! I now know for sure who has the honesty issues at my house. The winner is the wearer of the size 36 jeans! That is until I sort more laundry and sizes 34 and 30 have also been indicted. Well those older three boys feigning being snubbed by the Easter Bunny were in fact quite a bunch of racketeers obviously hoping to extort my secret stash away from me.
More laundry, more secrets…turns out that the size 8 boy’s jeans are completely stuffed with wrappers too. Then the plot thickens…more sorting of laundry….and now “the husband’s” jeans (or maybe it truly is his “genes”) are implicated …seems everybody is in on this.
The entire family has conspired to con me out of my rightful and well-deserved reward of chocolate by going to extraordinary effort to appear bereft of their own loot!
Well…the joke is on them this year…I took my stash to the office!
That saying is true….everything does eventually come out in the wash!
A “laundry-obsessed” Garden Goat