Elliot had his first Easter egg hunt in Santa Cruz yesterday — the same day he turned 19 months old. I was surprised by how quickly he figured out the concept.
I mean, we didn't really hide the eggs — they were all in plain sight — but I didn't expect him to immediately know to take his basket and gather them up. He barely needed any guidance in finding all of them. Maybe I've underestimated the tyke.
We were careful to hold the egg hunt indoors. As I've discussed before, we're trying to teach him to stop picking up trash in the street. Holding an outdoor activity where we seemed to be encouraging him to do exactly that would probably undo all our hard work.
Colored eggs = good. Cigarette butts = bad.