On Easter Sunday, we sponsored an Easter egg hunt for our grandkids at Chateau Parker. For the first time since Thanksmas (aka Thanksgiving), all 11 of our grandchildren came together for a united cause: find colorful plastic eggs — and liberate the candy within.
Since our house is tiny, we hosted the meal in two distinct shifts. The first shift included all the family — except Sara’s clan. Since we have three children who had two kids apiece, we had six kids and four adults. Later, when Sara’s contingent came, we dealt with the seven of them.
Can you imagine how much food a total of eight adults and two teens and two almost teens are able to consume? We provided the ham and dinner rolls. The rest brought side dishes. The table was not really spread in Thanksgiving-feast fashion, but I did hear the table legs groan a couple of times.
We had to ensure enough food to feed everyone, including Sara’s youngest, Allison. Allison may be 17 months old, but that girl can pack away as much food as her Papa and Grandma put together. Two bowls of oatmeal is a typical Alli breakfast, and she and Ben can easily demolish a half dozen eggs — Ben, two; Ali, four. Sounds like a baseball score.
Several of us had hidden Easter eggs. We asked Gary Harris not to cut our yard so the purple “flowers,” as Sandra calls them, would be available as hiding places. On Easter eve, I had opened 94 plastic eggs, loaded them with Easter candies, and snapped them shut. Three colander sized buckets held the prizes. Sara brought another three or four dozen pre-filled eggs.
Our task was to hide the eggs so they were visible to the little children, but not too easy to find. After all, if they found the eggs too soon, then the break time of the adult minders would be compromised. Hopefully, we were enacting Mission Possible.
We equipped them with their collecting buckets, lined them up, and sent them off. No Indy 500 race has had a more exciting start.
As most of you know, we have two sets of grandchildren — the Old Guard (those who are 11 through 14) and the Young Guns (those 5 and down). Older children helped their youngest siblings. Jaxen was with Laney and Haley was with Alli.
Believe me, 3-year-olds Ben and Hannah needed no help; they can spot an Easter egg at 500 paces. Some parents assisted with the hunt, but I sat in the swing, sipped coffee and watched the kids find the eggs within my view.
Papa’s prerogative is to sit and watch.
My joy came as the children came to the swing to show me their finds — and to empty their eggs. Sandra and I told everyone we wanted the plastic eggs returned so we could use them next year. We provided containers for the candy. Haley and I helped Alli open her eggs. Jaxen assisted Laney.
Even with well over 130 eggs, the hunt did not take as long as I had anticipated. All the little Every Ready bunnies were fully charged and moving like blurs. At least we enjoyed the silence. Do you know what the sound of 11 kids eating candy is? Roughly the same as one hand clapping.
Of course, I did not mind the amount of candy the kids were eating. After all, they were going home with Mommies and Daddies. “Fire ‘em up” is my philosophy.
I have never pulled a Sinbad, though. Sinbad said when one of his children leave grandkids at the house, just before he sends them home, he gives the kids cotton candy and Red Bull.
Fire ‘em up. Send ‘em home.
Babysitting requests at Sinbad’s home dropped significantly, as you can imagine.
By the way: chocolate works nearly as well.
(Evil grin)
Mike Parker is a columnist for The Free Press. You can reach him at mparker16@suddenlink.net or in care of this newspaper.