Best Egg Hunt Ever


For as long as I can remember, my family has made it a tradition to have an egg hunt at Easter. We always use plastic eggs filled with candy, and my dad always leaves a trail of clues leading from one location to the next. These clues are always rhyming poems, and they always get increasingly difficult from year to year. In fact, there were several times during this year's search when I turned to my brother and whispered, "I think Dad is on crack. This doesn't make ANY. FREAKING. SENSE."

Of course, they all make sense now, but there were a number of brain cramps along the way.

I Hate Peeps
I Hate Peeps | Flickr

Here Idols sing for / Mom so sweet / And you'll find candy / Just take a seat

The padded bench in my parents' bedroom where my mom and I watch American Idol every week.

The Cement Floor Has Never Looked So Classy
The Cement Floor Has Never Looked So Classy | Flickr

A yard apart / Sit fire and ice / Peek at the moon / Find something nice

Between the freezer and the furnace in the basement, sitting beneath the telescope.

Don't Ask About the Telephone Cord...
Don't Ask about the Telephone Cord . . . | Flickr

Stuff goes here / To be seen once more / Dig down deep / For treasure galore

Recycling bin in my father's study.

Real Nice, Dad
Real Nice, Dad | Flickr

You rocked here / When you were little / You had no hair / But lots of spittle

Rocking chair. *sigh* I almost didn't post this one. My parents were cracking up about "spittle" for like twenty minutes straight.

Jealous Kitty
Jealous Kitty | Flickr

Like a big red dog / Or Christmas pet / Search beneath the wheel / And a treasure get

Under the steering wheel in the van, which we almost named "Clifford" (because it's red) but instead named "Kia Pet" (because I foolishly mentioned that Kia sounded like Chia).

Dizzy Bunny
Dizzy Bunny | Flickr

I like to spin / I like to hop / Find a bunny / Beneath my top

Washing machine. I couldn't get this one at first, and then my mom piped in saying, "I know what's taking her so long! I'll explain when she's done." My dad told her she was being cruel. I then realized that it must be a cleaning product that I don't use very often. Thanks, Mom.

Do you still have Easter egg hunts? Or do you do something even more awesome? If so, please let me know. I'm not sure how much longer I'll be able to decode my father's insanity.