Bo’s First Egg Hunt

[Author’s Note: This post was originally published under the title Blast from the Past: April 11, 2020.]

Easter is, without a doubt, my favorite holiday. 

There’s truly nothing like it. Jesus’s death and resurrection was the ultimate turning point in history — the moment at which God officially sealed His promise to restore the perfection that humanity had lost through sin. But, since eternal salvation isn’t explicitly the topic of this post, suffice it to say that I have an intense emotional and intellectual attachment to Easter. 

However, I do not have an intense emotional or intellectual attachment to traditional Easter activities. In fact, up until this past Saturday, our sole Easter decorations have been wild cottontail rabbits and several dozen giant hyacinth bulbs.

But this year, for the first time ever, our Easter weekend also featured some cheap plastic eggs. 

It might not surprise you that the catalyst and effector of this thematic decoration was none other than Nova, who is credited as “The Queen of Christmas” in Bah-Humburglary. Nova is the wife half of our best couple friends, and she might more accurately be called “The Queen of All Holidays”. 

Frankly, I hadn’t even considered putting together an egg hunt for my firstborn until Nova offered to do it for me. I consented — as much for Nova’s sake as for Bo’s. After some FaceTime-facilitated discussion, we decided that, since snow was [accurately] predicted for Saturday night, she and her husband would hide the eggs before Borealis woke from his nap so that he could “hunt” before the sun went down. 

Twenty minutes later, Nova and Ernie pulled up outside our house. [Note: This is the same Ernie who stars in Process Control Class Goes to Coors Lab.]

For once, both our children were sleeping at the same time, so it was just Taylor and I who joined our friends in the driveway. 

It’s an odd feeling to stay at least six feet away from your best friends. Under normal circumstances, Nova and Ernie come over nearly every Monday night, and they are more familiar to Bo and Aza than are most of our blood relatives. So, the social distancing dance is both foreign and unwelcome.

Taylor and I watched as Nova and Ernie hid eleven pastel plastic eggs around our property. The little treasures ended up between rocks, by trees, on windowsills, and, in the case of one egg, in my tailpipe.

I wasn’t amused. “Seriously, Ernie?”

“Yeah! It’s such a perfect fit!” 

“Exactly. So, don’t you think his little fingers will get all sooty when he tries to get it out?”

I levered the egg out with a stick, and Ernie admitted, “Oh, yeah, maybe.”

Once all the eggs were placed, Nova addressed us with a pout. “We would stay longer, but we’re going to hide eggs for some of our other friends, too.”

“No worries!” I said. “That bag on the hood of my car is for you guys. It‘s got beer and ice cream inside, and I put disposable spoons in the side pocket.”

Ernie groaned. “Like I haven’t already had enough sweets today!”

I shrugged. “Sorry. You can leave it here if you want.”

Apparently, they didn’t. Nova and Ernie drove away with the beer and ice cream, and Taylor and I returned inside. 

It wasn’t long before both of our children woke up. We hustled Bo outside immediately and directed him to the first egg, which was conveniently nestled under an “Egg Hunt” sign. We praised Bo’s cleverness in spying the obvious egg, then gave him a reusable bag in which to carry his treasures. 

Taylor helped Bo search for more eggs while I returned inside to grab jackets. It seemed appropriate to bundle Australis up in the little Patagonia puffer that Nova and Ernie had purchased for her. 

For his part, Borealis was quite enthused about the entire hunt. He excitedly broke open every egg, examined its contents, then handed the pieces to Taylor for egg restoration. He listened well to our directional clues, and after a few minutes, he had found all but one egg. 

“Babe, do you know where the last egg is?” Taylor called to me from the upper driveway. 

“Ernie,” I growled under my breath. It would be so like my college friend to hide an egg where we couldn’t find it — you know, like in my tailpipe. But, then I scanned the lower driveway again, and finally spied a green egg hiding between two granite chunks in our rock wall.

“It’s down here!” I shouted. 

The boys joined us, and after some [very] leading hints, Bo found the last egg. 

“All done!” I said brightly. I was definitely the most excited to be finished. 

We retreated indoors, just as the first snowflakes began to fall. 

As Bo once again broke open his Easter eggs, I sighed loudly. “We’ll probably have to do this every year now, huh?”

Taylor: <grunts in confirmation>

“But do you know what this means, babe?”

Taylor: <grunts inquisitively>

“It means that The Queen of All Holidays has won!”