Easter Egg Champions

If Easter egg hunts were The Hunger Games, I’d be a career

Since 2009, K, L, and I have been celebrating Easter with K’s parents and various members of our entourage in Glastonbury, Connecticut. Some people might think such a locale does not have a lot to offer city folk such as ourselves. Honestly, I have no idea what Glastonbury has to offer. We’re always so busy reliving our childhood, we rarely leave the house. Sample activities at Camp Parental Units’ Connecticut Getaway include:
  • Cooking and eating elaborate 5 course meals
  • Guitar lessons/Fictional band practice
  • Fighting over K’s cousins’ long abandoned slippers
  • Dress up
  • Walking the dog
  • Chasing after the escaped dog
  • Roller racer races in the basement
  • Table tennis, in the style of Calvinball
  • Stealing pottery from K’s mother
  • Egg dyeing
  • Annual Easter Egg hunt
Now, all those other things are great, and above all, I love seeing K’s parents, but the star of the weekend for me will always be the Easter Egg Hunt. I am not generally a competitive person, but after the high of victory in 2009, maintaining my title has become increasingly important. Undefeated in my sophomore championship, I returned last year to merely tie for first and more importantly, be outwitted by K’s father and a smug beagle.
I was determined not to settle for anything short of unequivocal domination again. So assured of my impending success, I labeled our seven volume road trip mix tape thusly:
I obviously had a lot to live up to after all that trash-talking. Unfortunately for me, the competition this year was significantly more fierce. In addition to the usual suspects, Matt IV had come with us from DC, and KLin and L’s brother JD came with us from New York. Although JD was the only true newcomer to the playing field, Matt IV was heavily medicated during last year’s match and hardly counted as a threat. Lingering doubts about whether Easter Egg Hunting requires any real skill, or if I’d just been lucky in the past, started to creep out from the recesses of my mind. ¬†I also nearly traded away my chance at victory in exchange for KLin getting out of bed on Easter morning. Luckily, she did not take me up on my offer.
As the moment drew nearer, strategies were discussed. Alliances were formed. Both JD and Matt IV were clearly trying to cheat by looking out the window during breakfast. Eventually, it was time to gear up.

The Parentals separated us into three groups and assigned exits. KLin and I were sent to the backdoor, and as we waited, I couldn’t help but feel like Katniss going up the elevator into the arena. The next few moments of my life were critical. I had to snatch as many eggs as I could in the first few minutes–seconds, even–or I would surely lose. I heard the Hunger Games¬†countdown in my head, until finally, at long last, we were given the go-ahead to step off that mine-laden platform and head towards the cornucopia.
After a quick sweep of the perimeter of the backyard and garage, I once again felt confident in my impending victory. With an average of 8.67 eggs per person, I’d already collected 12 by the time we reconvened for the first egg count. Despite Matt IV’s baffling strategy of giving all his eggs away to people who were not me, I finished first with 14 eggs, K a close second with 12.
Next year’s hunt is mine to lose.

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