On the hunt

I never realized that my tenure in the Boy Scouts would help me successfully navigate the dangers of an all female household. Consider one of the fundamental, time tested adages: never come between a mother bear and her cub’s Easter eggs.

The rules of engagement were straightforward: Prior to the event, parents provided one dozen eggs for each child that wished to participate. The event organizers hid the eggs throughout the park on the morning of the Easter egg hunt. The children were set loose at the appointed hour, and each child terminated their egg seeking mission once they had gathered exactly one dozen eggs.

Unfortunately, dear Summer arrived 20 minutes late and her initial search only yielded four eggs (well, Summer’s search yielded one egg, and her parents helped her find three more). Hoping to teach my family a lesson on punctuality, I declared the missing eight eggs a casualty of our tardiness and proceeded to the brunch pavilion.

But Emily’s demand for justice knows no bounds. Emily relayed news of the egg inequalities to the event’s alpha female, and a few minutes later, I saw two boys who had earlier gathered an overabundance of eggs redistribute their ill-gotten bounty throughout the park.

Summer swooped to claim what was rightfully hers. And by swooped, I mean overlooked the new eggs and headed right for the swings. Emily followed in her wake, scooping up eight little eggs.

Outcome for Emily’s Summer’s first Easter egg hunt: Mission Accomplished.