Eamon's first HUNT

Brendan grew up doing hunts on Easter.


And not just a little Easter Egg Hunt.


I'm talking individualized, complicated, rhyming poems leading to a hidden spot with another similar poem (and often a delicious treat or a nice prize), which leads to another and another... These hunts would take hours, often longer as whoever was a teenager at the time would say "this is stupid" or "I quit" (only to be guilted back in to the hunt).


These hunts often led:
--to parks to dig up more clues,
--to nearby schools or playing fields,
--across town to friends' houses (or even calling these teenage friends on the phone and singing them the listed bunny song to get the much-needed clue, not knowing for sure if you read the clue correctly -or if it was correctly written- and definitely leaving friends laughing at you for a long long long time),

--dirty laundry hampers ("and bring down the laundry, while you're at it!"),

--mailboxes ("and get the mail while you're out there!"), Etc.

The hunts often included hemming and hawing (that ALWAYS helped!), telling mom and dad that the clues don't make any sense (and sometimes they didn't, as if they had any control over it... after all, the Easter Bunny wrote and hid the clues!), looking EVERYWHERE in case the clue-seeker were to stumble across the clue (which occassionally happened but always confused things even more). The first clue was usually hanging outside your door when you woke in the morning (and there were always extras for visitors. One Easter a few years back, Bren's parents were up really late... there were the three kids, me, and two law schools friends that lived out of state who didn't travel home for Easter. Oh what fun!).

This year was a little bit different. Of course there were clues. And of course we all got them. (Even Bren's parents got a hunt... their first clue read: Your first clue is attached/ To the van's trailor hitch./ This year's bunny will prove/ That payback's a b!tc%. [Their hunt next year will be much harder!]) The rain and cold forced us to do Eamon's first hunt indoors.

Now, of course the hunts can't begin too difficult. So, it was easy to decide that Eamon's first hunt would be only challenging for a one-year-old. After his morning nap, we placed him on the floor in the living room. His job, which he did wonderfully, was to follow the egg trail. The process took quite a while because, as we expected, once he found that first egg filled with his first taste of mini Oreos, why wouldn't he open every egg he found?! (Only a couple ended up having Oreos. The rest had animal crackers and goldfish. And a few had stickers... boo! That was dad's idea! He loves them now. But at the time, "just stickers?!") :o) The eggs led out of the living room, down the hall, up the stairs, in to our room, and across the floor to his new wagon filled with goldfish, new sippy cups and sneakers, and several little toys.

The picture below was taken after we wiped off the Oreo scum from his lips.

Happy First Easter, bud! :)