April 16, 2006

Egg Hunt Etiquette

My memories of Easter egg hunts are pretty tame. The most common place for an egg hunt for me was at my grandmother’s big back yard. The competition was my little sister, so it goes without saying that I was always a pretty happy camper post egg hunt.

I also have some memories of an egg hunt that my parents used to take us to at a local park. I honestly don’t know why they even call them egg hunts because really, who has to hunt for them when they’re right out in front of you? They really should call them "egg free-for-alls" because isn’t that what they usually end up being anyway? You show me an egg hunt, and I’ll show you at least a hand full of kids who leave with hurt feelings and some pent up frustration. The egg hunt etiquette that I followed at the local park egg hunt went something like this:

When someone starts the knee bend descent towards an egg, that egg is off limits. Once someone has "engaged" the egg in this manner, it’s time to move along.
If I am in the knee bend descent and another person should swoop in and try to take the egg that I have engaged, all bets are off, as in, do what needs to be done. You may: tell on kid, yell at kid, kick kid, etc.
If all else fails when dealing with a knee bend descent swipe attempt, quickly stomp on egg so that it really is pointless for anyone involved. Follow the "if I can’t have this egg, no one can have this egg" mentality as a last resort.
If someone does successfully swipe an egg once I have engaged the egg, then I am free to hate that person for all of eternity, and/or possibly "accidentally" tip their basket while they’re in the process of swiping someone else’s egg.

I believe it is a parent’s responsibility to teach their children these unwritten rules of childhood. I certainly don’t want or condone either of my children being bullies. However, I want them to know that it’s o.k. to stand up for themselves too. Which brings me to today’s events. . . Big I has never been to a regular egg hunt. Her experience is much like most of mine were. The egg hunt takes place at Mom-Mom’s house and she has had no competition and probably won’t from Lil C until at least next year. This year, I decided that it would be fun to go to a different egg hunt to let her be around other kids. After all, children must be indoctrinated into the egg hunt free-for-all at some point.

I wanted to give Big I some "tips" before the actual hunt, but she spent the two previous nights at Mom-Mom’s house, so I didn’t have the time to really pass on my knowledge. Seeing as the egg hunt actually took place at a church, I was unsure if my egg rules would really be appropriate. O.k. I know they’re not appropriate, but even kids at church can get competitive, right?

So, the egg hunt started with an Easter party that involved story time and crafts. The kids traced their hands and then pasted cotton balls onto the hand print to make it look like a little lamb. I’m not a particularly crafty person so I was pretty lost. I think Big I was too, judging from the way her lamb turned out. I mean, it’s cute and all, but it looks more like a hand with cotton balls on it than anything else.

Then, there was the little boy sitting across the table from her who kept "smelling something" (that I’m sure he dealt himself), and accusing someone in the vicinity of letting loose with their nether-regions. My husband and I recently taught Big I another unwritten rule of childhood, to use the phrase, "he who smelt it dealt it," but instead she just glared and kept on gluing. I’m telling you, teaching your children the childhood rules are just not easy these days, and getting them to follow through with them is even harder!

So, finally it was time for the egg hunt. The kids were grouped according to age and Big I was one of the youngest in the group, having just turned 5. We made our way to the starting line and the eggs were all lying out in the grass for everyone to see. There were eggs and candy and I thought for sure that Big I would feel like she hit the lottery and come back with only candy. The kids started and everyone else started running, doing the practically walking on all fours thing, to get to the eggs and candy faster. Then there was Big I.

Big I tentatively walked into the field and contemplated each egg. She would notice one, take some time to observe it, maybe bend a bit towards it, and then slowly pick it up and put it in her basket, if the mood moved her. Then she would walk a few steps, ever so slowly, and start the observation/contemplation process all over again. I couldn’t help but say to my Mom, who was along for the fun, "What is she doing?" My competitive nature made me yell out, "Come on! Pick up the eggs!" Still her process continued at the same pace.

When everything was finally picked up, Big I made her way back to me and had five eggs in her basket, which was WAY more than I thought she’d have considering how she practically gave each one a job interview before picking it up. In her basket there was not a piece of candy to be found. I couldn’t help but wonder if she had it in her head that since I had been talking about taking her to an egg hunt, perhaps she thought eggs were the only thing she was allowed to pick up. "Maybe since we’re at a church egg hunt, she thinks the candy was put there by the devil to tempt her," I said to my Mom. One little girl standing nearby heard us remark that Big I was without a single piece of candy. She offered some of hers to Big I. I mean, obviously this was not your average egg hunt; and it’s probably good that my rules were kept to myself.

Before heading back in, I asked Big I to give me one last smile with her basket of eggs (o.k. actually a first smile because there were no smiles during the course of this hunt.)

Man, she was thrilled. Can’t you tell?

Inside, when she realized we were leaving she finally gave up the pearly whites. Apparently, competitive natures are not passed down in the genes; and I need to seriously start making some peace with that NOW.