Easter has always been a favorite holiday of mine.
Growing up, I can remember spending Easter Sunday at my grandmother’s house.
Nearly every aunt, uncle and cousin would be there.
We’d have a hearty lunch big enough to feed a king and his court.
Once the dishes were cleared from the table, washed and put away, all of my aunts would head outside and hide Easter eggs in grandma’s big — and I do mean big — yard. I don’t know how they managed to find all those nooks and crannies underneath and around grandma’s house, and in the gazillion trees that were on the property.
We didn’t mind.
We all had that golden egg on our mind.
We knew a HUGE chocolate bunny awaited the finder.
More times than not, my cousin Timmy always seemed to find the golden egg. He’d yell “grandmama!,” drop his basket and run toward the house.
We could never figure out how Timmy knew where to look. The aunts were careful enough to put that golden egg in a different place every year.
I guess Timmy had the “nose” to sniff out chocolate.
Once the grand hunt ended, we’d sit on the porch and compare our eggs.
Some had treats inside. Others had miniature toys that either snapped together or came in one piece.
To me, the best find were jelly bean-filled eggs.
Man, I could make a meal out of them. I had to be careful with my braces, though. Lord forbid if they got caught up in a gooey mess and popped off my teeth.
Mom always inspected my eggs.
I didn’t care if she confiscated a jelly bean or two.
She’d just smile, rub my hair and joke that she had to help prevent me from getting a belly ache from eating all that sugary goodness at one time.
I wonder if Timmy ever got a belly ache?
Rudy Coggins is assistant editor of the Mount Olive Tribune. He can be reached at email@example.com.