Easter

You scan the familiar room, trying to remember where you hid the plastic eggs last year. The kids are older: Should you make it harder to find them? Should they peek out or be tucked away from view? You learned the hard way not to hide the dyed, boiled eggs after finding a smelly, forgotten one under the sofa mid-summer. The youngest was still in diapers that year.

 

For years, you’ve been meaning to stick money in one egg -- and make it a golden egg! You excuse yourself for neglecting to do that yet again because, hey, Easter is supposed to be about chocolate bunnies, not about the Benjamins.

After all the plastic eggs are hidden around the first floor of the house (none upstairs, an unspoken rule) and in the backyard (“Not in the front yard, Mom!” your daughter pleaded last night), you pull the hidden bag of candy from behind the blue chair in the reading room. The oversized shopping bag contains Rolos in memory of Grandma Romano, Twix fun size bars for your son, peanut M&Ms for your daughter, and Jelly Belly beans for all. One year you mixed in a bag of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Bean with the regular Jelly Bellys. The whole family still laughs about eating Vomit and Earwax beans, although all agreed never to get those again.  

 

Jennifer Zajac