Yesterday I did an egg hunt for the first time in my life. As a black woman raised Jewish, I don't have a lot of experience with Easter. I associate it with ham, a mawkish rabbit and bad chocolate. As a kid, I never felt like I was missing anything because Passover is pretty awesome. Multiple nights of food, family and free money. Good times.
But I agreed to spend yesterday with a friend who loves the Easter egg hunt. I was down for it. It's Sunday; aside from read the Times, what else am I going to do?
Well, give me a late pass and send me to the principal: Egg hunts are fun! I hid eight eggs, my friend hid eight eggs and then we each went egg hunting. I believe I may have crowed at one point. As corny as it sounds, I was totally delighted.
Now I'm wondering what else I'm missing out on. Is Ramadan actually a soul-satisfying period of gentle starvation? Should I give a solstice party a chance? And what's that holiday George Costanza's dad made up? Festivus! I'm definitely down with holding onto a pole and airing some light grievances.
My point? I need to take more advantage of this ambiguous heritage and other people's stuff more.
Showing posts with label egg hunt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label egg hunt. Show all posts
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