Monday, April 6, 2015

Exploding Eggs

This weekend we had our usual family Easter egg hunt. It is not a modest affair. My kids have nineteen cousins on my husband's side. They all participate (except for the big, tough seventeen year old who is too cool for egg hunts) (but still collects them in his pockets). All of the eggs are labeled with the kids' names, making the hunt last for several minutes. There is even cooperative effort as the cousins help each other find their eggs, especially the big cousins helping the small cousins. It's a highlight of the Easter holiday for my kids...and one that takes a lot of stuffing and sorting and labeling of eggs.



I should add, there are no illusions as to who is responsible for this affair. My kids watched my mother-in-law and me prepare almost 300 eggs. They even helped a little...including my two year-old who liked to stick the candy into her mouth, chew it, and spit it back out. (We put these pieces into an egg for the big, tough seventeen year-old nephew who is too cool for egg hunts.) There are no illusions as to who hides the eggs, either, especially this year--the kids hid each other's eggs. Most of them ended up strewn across the ground. I removed a couple from tail pipes. In the end all the children found their eggs, ate too much sugar, and were happy (until the sugar wore off).

We finished off the hunt with cascarones--dyed, hollowed-out chicken eggs filled with confetti which you break over each other's heads. They are sold by the droves here. We went through about thirty dozen this year. The kids love it although we always have to remind them to smash the egg in their hand, not on the person's head. The older boys and their dads are always the last one's standing, running around like small children, trying to be the last one to "get" each other. My in-laws' front hard now looks like a battleground of confetti and dyed pieces of egg shell (this would be a good analogy for the especially chaotic days of motherhood, but I'll just stop there).


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