It’s almost Easter, and around the Davies’ house that only meant one thing growing up. An Egg Hunt. (ya know, aside from the whole Resurrection thing…)
Every year in my family I would win the egg hunt in both categories: Most Eggs Found and Hardest Egg to Find. I wouldn’t really call myself a competitive person, at all, but I have fond memories of going to the community egg hunt as a kid and truly kicking butt. One year Jason found the golden egg and won the first place grand prize – an ice cream cake in the shape of a bunny.
Another year at home, Jason (who has always preferred to hide the eggs) surprised me with a real live bunny as a grand prize. I have a true fear of rodents (we had them all growing up – mice, hamsters, guinea pigs and bunnies – and each one bit me multiple times) and while I appreciated the gesture, I turned it down in favor of a more friendly, less scary chocolate bunny.
Another year at home, Jason (who has always preferred to hide the eggs) surprised me with a real live bunny as a grand prize. I have a true fear of rodents (we had them all growing up – mice, hamsters, guinea pigs and bunnies – and each one bit me multiple times) and while I appreciated the gesture, I turned it down in favor of a more friendly, less scary chocolate bunny.
I’m not really sure if you can really practice for something like this, or if it’s just a natural, God-given talent. I prefer to consider it the latter.
No comments:
Post a Comment