At some point during the past year, a turning point has clearly come and gone for my teen. The Easter Bunny has gone to the sad place to be with the tooth-fairy.
My wife and daughter did not dye any eggs this year. That should have been my first clue. After Easter Vigil on Saturday night, only 12 plastic eggs were placed around the house. My wife is clearly more in tune with these realities than I.
When the Child awoke, she had no interest in finding eggs. Instead, on the breakfast table SHE placed a plastic egg with a clue inside. This meant that tables had been turned and that the Child was playing “find the dark chocolate bunny” with Daddy. This was a sick reversal of roles. The clues were as follows:
- Look at the sunniest place in the house (couch by the window)
- Here there are, real, plastic and fake ones (meaning the fridge… for eggs)
- You will have to use your brain for this one (by the CPU of the computer)
- The first thing you built (her Ikea nightstand).
Once I had my bunny (or Easter sacrifice as it is known) we nudged the Child towards the hunt. It was clear that she was too old for this now as teen-age looks were borne like fangs of a hungry dog protecting its bone.
I am thinking that for her fourteenth birthday next week, I will hide clues to her presents in 12 eggs around the house. Let’s see how excited she is then.