Hyperactive Easter

We had an enjoyable weekend, but there were moments that put us pretty close to the edge. There was the great Cadbury Mini-Egg spill of 2010, the near-overdose on Reese's peanut butter bunnies, and an afternoon of "stop crying and dye your eggs" drama. Too much candy makes A a reckless (and ill-tempered) girl.

I took the kid to an Easter egg hunt at our local wildlife sanctuary yesterday. I must say, it was extremely well organized. Participants had to be pre-registered and they capped attendance at 100. They did the math and figured out that each kid could find seven eggs. We started out in a small auditorium where we did craft projects while waiting for the hunt to get underway. There was a man in a chipmunk costume, and we were instructed to follow him out of the building and around the corner to a small unpaved road where the eggs were hidden (and by "hidden" I mean "laying in plain sight everywhere.") He walked to the far end of the woodsy lane and prepared to give the signal to start the hunt. I am assuming this will be the one and only time I say the following to my child:

"Do not do ANYTHING until the chipmunk tells you to!"

A found the requisite number of plastic eggs and we headed back inside to open the eggs and partake of a cookie. She grabbed a cup of orange-flavored something or other off the table and promptly spilled it, narrowly missing a volunteer who happened to be standing there. "Um, clean-up on aisle five?" I said to him, as meekly as I could manage.

After the egg hunt, we headed to the mall for lunch. I also wanted to look for some spring/summer tops for her. I don't know if the candy from the eggs was kicking in or what the problem was, but my daughter was so ill-behaved that I put her in time-out in the middle of a department store. She cried to beat the band and rolled around under a clearance rounder.

By the time we got home mid-afternoon, A's dad was back from the nerdfest. I asked him to set up the stuff to dye eggs. I had boiled a dozen eggs the night before. The kid "supervised" him and at one point decided to demonstrate the technique she planned to use in dyeing the eggs. The demonstration, which seemed to involve catapulting an egg into a coffee mug by flinging it from a spoon, resulted in cracked egg #1.

After the eggs were all dyed, A wanted to put some stickers on them. I handed her the stickers and went into the other room. P headed into the living room to watch TV. A few moments later, I heard a small thud, then a pair of size 9 toddler feet tapping across the kitchen floor, and then the garbage pail lid snapping back into place. I went back into the kitchen to investigate. "Did you break an egg?" I asked.

She shook her head no. "No, Mommy, I was sitting right here!" She was actually quite convincing. However, she forgot one minor detail: I can count to 11. And there were clearly 10 eggs left in the bowl.

Easter Sunday itself was pretty uneventful. We went to church and then enjoyed a brunch buffet. I hope restaurants appreciate the profit they make on vegetarians like me. They charge me $15.95 when all I can eat is some potatoes and a waffle. But still, I take what I can get. It was an extraordinary waffle, of course.

The kid was delighted to wear a pretty dress today, as well as the add-a-pearl necklace she got from her aunt and uncle when she was two. I found the dress on the clearance rack at the Carter's outlet (go me!) I also picked up a matching purse at Kohl's. You may wonder what a proper young lady carries in her purse these days. Well, I'll tell you: two empty plastic eggs, a deck of "Go Fish" cards, and a handful of Whoppers. Because you never know when the desire for Whoppers will overtake you or a Go Fish tournament might break out.


Cindy and the bully boyz said…
PLEASE tell me someone had the foresight to video the egg cat-a-pault.....
Jodi said…
A's hair looks cute!!!

Sounds like a fun weekend! :)

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