Hunt

My kids are smarter than I am.

For many years, rather than hold a traditional Easter egg hunt, where our kids, each equipped with a bunny basket, would run around the living room, searching for hidden eggs, DW and I would challenge our daughters with a different sort of hunt.

For this hunt, the bounty is held in one hidden location. On our kitchen island, a lone plastic egg rests with a simple sign: START HERE.

Opening the egg, our daughters would find a tiny, folded slip of paper. On it, a written message, in the form of a rhyme, that would cryptically hint at where the next egg can be found. Several such eggs would be concealed through out the house, from upstairs bedrooms and closets to corners in the basement, each containing a rhyming clue to the next egg.

The final egg would lead them to their jackpot, where Easter treats were won.

The first year that we held this treasure hunt, the kids puzzled over the clues, sometimes taking 10 to 15 minutes to crack before discovering the next egg. Though they complained when the clue was too hard, they wouldn't give up.

When the clue was found impossible to decipher, DW or I would verbally provide a hint to point them in the right direction.

This Easter hunt was a hit. The girls insisted that we do it again the next year.

Several years have passed and our daughters have not tired of this hunt. Except, this year, they showed some frustration. Not at any difficulty with the clues, but the exact opposite.

The night before this Easter's hunt, after the kids had gone to bed, DW and I worked to compose our clues. This is usually a painstaking process. First, we decide upon a hiding spot: inside the Instant Pot; behind the Nintendo Switch dock.

Next, we collaborate on a rhyme. Neither of us are poets: all we care about is that our lines rhyme. No rhythm is required.

As soon as each location and clue is created, we write the clues on tiny slips of paper and place them in plastic eggs. The trick is to remember which egg goes in which location.

We then place the chocolates and other treats in the final location.

The whole process takes us the better part of an hour; sometimes, longer.

My kids are smart as a whip.

This weekend, when DW and I composed our clues, we read them to each other and asked, "Do you think that'll be too hard for the girls?" You see, each year, we've tried to make the clues more challenging, as the kids have grown older.

This morning, I heard DD15 and DD18 start the hunt as I was getting out of bed. I went to the bathroom and then headed downstairs. DW had been baking bread and I was asked to cook bacon.

By the time I had the package of bacon on the counter, ready to cut open, maybe five minutes had elapsed since I hauled myself out from under the sheets.

And the hunt was over.

The girls had opened the first egg, read the clue, and immediately headed for the Instant Pot. The next clue was still being read by DD15 as DD18 was walking over to the next hiding place.

One clue eluded to beats: DD15 has two full drum kits but instead of going to them, the obvious choices, they went to where she also has two djembes. One is next to a drum kit, but they went to the second djembe, the furthest from the other percussion instruments, and lifted it up.

Underneath, was the egg with the next clue.

The final clue pointed to the treasure and, again, the girls were faced with no challenge. "Do I need your keys?" asked DD18.

"I'm not going outside," said DD15.

"I'm checking the garage first," answered DD18. The treats were in the back seat of our vehicle, in the garage.

Five minutes. That's all it took.

Next year, I'm writing the clues in Latin.