Wester egg

Our children are more than twice the age you would expect them to have outgrown Easter egg hunts. But the first year we suggested stopping they were so appalled they organised a hunt for us. Thus the tradition continued. So this March, as usual, we stocked up on hideable eggs.
 
Son was away for Easter and suggested the following weekend. But then daughter was away. Then, then, then… This weekend, a full equinox later, was the first time since then that we’ve all been together so down from the top of the cupboard came the past-their-sell-by-date eggs. We hid them in much the same places as we have for 24 years and got the annual reminder of our dismal record on property maintenance.

I wonder whether the neighbours spotted four adults squeezing behind the compost bin, scraping old spiderweb out of crevices just in case, peering into flower pots and reaching into the crooks in apple-tree branches. And laughing.