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Easter Egg Hunt Madness!
By April Lawrence, Apr 7 2015 07:25PM
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Here’s a picture of my little 3 year old angel ready willing and able to start an Easter Egg hunt this past weekend. All geared up and completely out of character, I arrived early to get a good spot. We had a lovely picnic lunch, just me, Zachary, and his 4 month old little sister Aurora (Rory for short). The scene went down at the Los Encinos State Historic park. And bless their hearts, all the older ladies and gentemen running the event were what I assumed to be volunteers. They were dressed up in old-timey clothes and set the stage beautifully for a wonderful event. BUUUTTTT, as with all things Los Angeles and the word FREE, it was crazy over crowed. Including the small space set aside for the 3 and 4 year olds to hunt in.
15 minutes before the start we head over to get in queue. I ask my little dare devil one last time if he’s sure he wants to do this. The answer I get back is a resounding yes. Ugghhh. Ok. We get a good spot, but then the crowds begin to decend upon us. One parent shoving her little girl to try and get to the front, knocks over Zachary and he falls, sitting his little tush into that very basket you see in the picture. Does this phase him? No, of course not. I pick him up and ask one more time…yes, he’s sure he wants to do this. Arrggggh. Ok. The count down begins and the old-timey gentleman shouts “go” into his old-timey mega-phone. I, holding the infant in one arm, send the 3 year old off into the sea of children with the other arm. There he went. But where? He walked away and that was it!!! I could no longer see him. My precious baby boy and I had let him walk away!!! As I dig my way through the sea of parents surrounding the carrel I had just sent him into, I thought to myself, was I crazy??? YES! I begin to shout his name, deafening the parent next to me, but who cares right?! You’re worried about taking pictures while my child’s life is in jeopardy?! That one minute I didn’t have eyes on him seemed like an eternity. I was picturing a line up of child molesters waiting on the other side of the corral to snatch up each child as they came in so innocently trusting these strangers giving them treats in plastic eggs. Then I saw him, he wasn’t laying there bleeding, but instead my patient, strong, brave little guy, was calmly walking around looking for Easter eggs, with a big smile on his face. He had three eggs in his basket and by my calculations, that was enough. I shouted his name and this time he heard me, we met up at the front entrance to the corral and off we went. He was very excited to look in his three eggs and see what prizes they had inside. We headed home, I slowly began to recover from my nervous breakdown, but he was happy, and that was all that mattered.
Anyone else have a similar experience? When is it appropriate to talk to your childern about stranger danger? Of course for me, it was that day during the car ride home.