Egg hunt palooza

Easter is hands down my favorite holiday. I love everything about it ... the special celebration and remembrance of Christ's passion and resurrection, the Lord's Supper on Good Friday, the new springy clothes, the Easter service on Sunday morning, the family gathering afterward, and the hunt. (Click if you want to read about last Easter and my thoughts on Christians having egg hunts. FYI, I think it's A-OK.)

"To the victor go the spoils" is fair for a school or neighborhood egg hunt, but not for mine. I was thinking about how to make the playing field level this year so my little darlins' could equally share the spoils, and I came across the perfect solution on Facebook (see, it's not a total waste of time). You assign each child a color and have them hunt only for that color of egg. Pure genius.

I separated all the plastic eggs by color and bought color-coordinated gift bags for the kids to collect their eggs in. After spending many hours and dollars shopping for little toys and other treats, I spent an entire afternoon filling 120 eggs, carefully choosing what to put in each egg so everyone would get the same amount and get the things they would like. For example, hair ties went in the pink and purple eggs for the girls, and tiny military vehicles went in the blue and green eggs for the boys. I overbought as usual, so instead of having just one item per egg, I had to really pack stuff in.

Another good thing about a color-coded egg hunt is that for the older, more savvy hunters, we could hide the eggs in harder-to-find and harder-to-reach places, and for my little Sara, in more obvious places.

But best of all, the kids didn't have to be in a frantic frenzy to find eggs before someone else did. I gave them their bags, clearly explained the rules, asked if they understood the rules as I had explained them, and then calmly led them outside where they took their time enjoying the hunt, secure in the knowledge that their eggs would be waiting for them.

Exclamations of "Pink!" "Purple!" "Blue!" and "Teal!" could be heard across the yard. Christian had taken note of Zach's observation that the green eggs were closer to teal. I still maintain they were pastel green, but I must admit that next to the bag, which was a lime green, they did have the appearance of teal by comparison. I wonder ... from whence could my son have possibly inherited such persnickety-ness ... or perhaps it's the admirable quality of keen observational powers. Yep, I'm going with that last one.

Afterward, the kids sat on the patio to open their eggs and discover their treasure. The mood necklaces were a popular item. The boys seemed particularly interested in checking the color for changes, several times reporting the current status of their mood based on the chart that came with the necklace. At one point, Ezra said in his quiet, sweet voice, "Look, Nana ... I'm happy and romantic." Then Christian blasted into the room, screeching, "Nana! I'm happy! And calm! And relaxed!" I agreed with the mood stone only in that the boys were happy. Obviously, it's not an exact science.

I had given my big darlin' the choice of hunting eggs outside or inside, and Jackson chose inside. So I hid his yellow eggs in my bedroom, bathroom, and closet. The little bottles of scented hand sanitizer (one of his obsessions) didn't fit inside the eggs, so I hid them as is. After he would find a couple of eggs and a couple of hand sanitizers, he would start to leave the room, so I had to keep telling him there were more. I guess he was just in a hurry to inspect his treasure.

Then the little darlins' got to hunt in the living room for one big egg each with their name on it that held special prizes. And finally, I had my big girls (my daughter and my daughter-by-another-mother) hunt for little envelopes. I told them that two were in the living room, two in the dining room, and two in the kitchen. Kelly's three were marked with a foam letter K and Angy's three with an X since I had no more A's in my stash of foam letters.

Each envelope held a Kohl's $25 gift card. (Girls, don't expect this to be a new tradition.) I made them work for it, though. The hunt took quite a while, and I had the best time giving hints and frustrating the heck out of them, but in a good way.

How did I manage to get this far without talking about the food! I'll tell you this ... it's hard to beat a good sandwich. And who wants to cook on Easter anyway? The day before, I bought choice deli meats, cheeses, and potato chips. Then I made some good ole ranch dip—the kind that's been around for over 50 years and still reigns as the best—a big bowl of fruit salad, and a Holy Cow cake made with yellow cake instead of chocolate, which I will now call Toffee Caramel cake. It's the kind you eat no matter how full you are. And knowing that you'll be sorry isn't enough to stop you.

The most important ingredient for a good sandwich is, of course, the bread. I learned last year that going to Panera Bread after church limits the selection because of the morning rush of customers, so I left early for church and stopped on the way there. I got exactly what I wanted—a large loaf of freshly baked Three Cheese Bread and one of Sesame Semolina. I think I'll add a loaf of Ciabatta next year. That way, everyone will have more leftovers to make toast for breakfast.

And that's the only change I'll make to the menu. We enjoyed it so much that I plan to start a new tradition and serve the same thing every Easter. So maybe, just maybe, you won't have to hear about the food again.

Toward the end of the day, Evyn and Sara each came to me separately and said, "This is the best Easter ever!" I couldn't agree more.

But you know what ... I bet next year will be too.