Attack of the Easter Monster

It's that time of year again. While my wife was at work on Saturday, I took our 4-year-old daughter and our 6-month-old daughter to the annual Easter egg hunt.

I use the term 'hunt' very loosely. This is basically a giant field with the crowd gathered in a big circle around the perimeter of the mine field, er, egg field.

We wait for the giant fire engine to honk its horn, and.......

HOOOOOOOOOOOONK!

Free for all! The crowd converges on the eggs! We pick up 6 eggs and stuff them into the plastic grocery bag that I remembered to bring this year (hey, it's not a fancy Easter basket but it works).

Just like that, it's over. 60 seconds flat. Now, the real fun begins.

The Easter Bunny comes riding up on a big fire engine, basically scaring the crap out of the 4-year-0ld. She is pretty much done at this point. We run away from the Easter Bunny, head over to the prize table and get her little $1.99 stuffed bunny that she got for collecting a 'golden egg'.

My arm suddenly feels surprising warm. I realize that the 6-month-old has spit up on my left arm. Good times.

We sit on the curb for five minutes eating Reese's Peanut Butter cups and chocolate eggs.

"Daddy, can we pleeeeease go home now?"

Total time elapsed = 30 minutes.

Hey, this is my kind of family outing!