April 14th 2017

Today we had a Good Friday Easter egg hunt at my Grandma and Grandad’s. It’s something we’ve done with semi-regularity for as long as I can remember. I think we’ve only missed a few years – where we were pretending that we were all too old for it. At 23, I’m the youngest – my oldest cousin is 30 and he’s the biggest kid of the lot, including my four year-old second cousin.

For the Easter egg hunt my Grandma and Grandad hide like 70-odd mini chocolate eggs around their (quite substantial) garden, and the winner is the Grandchild who gets the most. I got quite competitive about it. I’m not ashamed to admit that I basically stole chocolate from my four year-old second cousin by swooping down on an egg that he was reaching for.

Me and my sister raced to the same egg and I gave her a strong shoulder barge that sent her flying into the bushes, Perhaps too far – but I did get the egg.


The most fun part of the Egg hunt is when we swap roles and the grandkids hide the eggs for the Grandparents. (don’t get offended that I dropped the ‘Easter’ in ‘Easter egg’ there it was just to shorten it – although this parenthetical doesn’t… nevermind)

Us kids have far more inventive locations in which to hide the eggs, and the winner of the competition is the one whose egg is found last.

Grandad kind of accidentally found my egg because he thought that whilst he was out in the garden he’d check if there was any water in the birdhouse, and my egg fell out when he did so.


Despite my competitive nature, I don’t think I won either of the competitions. Dammit.

After the family Egg hunt, the younguns went round my sister’s for dinner and drinks, and we celebrated Easter the traditional way – with cider and Lasagne and an antipasti board.


Until tomorrow, it was definitely a Good Friday.




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