Good work, team! That’s an official wrap on another Burnaby Heights Neighbourhood Easter Egg Scavenger Hunt. This event wouldn’t have been nearly as successful without all of our volunteers. Every one of you really gave it 110 per cent this year, the kids all seemed to really enjoy themselves, and I’ve already had some good feedback from a few of the parents.
Also, it’s probably unrelated, but I thought I’d mention it anyways: I noticed that my stockpile of precious velociraptor eggs seems to have misplaced itself sometime in the last few hours. Has anyone seen my dinosaur eggs? They’re large, sort of an off-eggshell white, and whenever you hold one, you get the overwhelming feeling like you’re playing god.
The last place I remember seeing them was in the rec centre supply closet. I was busy counting them, as someone with two dozen velociraptor eggs often does, when Francine asked to help with a particularly nasty streamer entanglement outside. When I came back, my pile of eggs was missing. Does anyone remember moving them?
Perhaps you saw them on the floor and moved them onto a shelf so they weren’t a tripping hazard? Or maybe someone shuffled my dinosaur eggs out of the way so he or she could have easier access to the beautifully watercoloured eggs I prepared for the Easter egg hunt? Nope? You sure you didn’t accidentally move them, Carol? Just checking.
I also hate to bring it up, but I wish that you guys had followed my instructions and hid all of the Easter eggs instead of just some of them. There’s no point in us having leftovers because it’s not like we can save them for next year’s hunt. Judging by how many Easter eggs are left in the supply closet, I’d say you guys hid less than half of them.
Like, a lot less than half. Not even a dozen, or maybe even fewer?
Try to remember, folks: this holiday isn’t about us, it’s about making the kids happy. And you know what makes kids happy? Finding watercoloured eggs on the ground and putting them in a little pastoral pink or yellow basket. If that’s not Easter, I don’t know what is.
After talking to you all here, I think it’s pretty clear what happened here. We have to acknowledge the reality that someone, Carol, likely mistook the genetically modified raptor eggs I’ve been working on for the last 10 years for the $5 chicken variety that I spent an hour decorating with stripes and polka dots.
We don’t have to panic, though. Not yet. The eggs aren’t set to hatch for a few more days, so that should be enough time to find out who took them home, trade the raptor eggs for the decorated ones, and verify that it was klutzy Carol who accidentally used the wrong eggs. Sorry, I mean figure out who moved them.
Well this whole event went from fun to none fairly quickly here. Everything should work out okay though. The only real threat is Carol’s incompetence.
Sorry, Carol. We all thinking it.
