Through the tent sheet I can see figures moving everywhere. I do not dare to go out just yet so I keep still and quiet building up a world of expectations. Whispers are flowing in the wind outside and I can hear nothig else but footsteps stumping the freshly cut grass. "Is everyone involved?" I wonder and I try to listen to the voices. There was nothing to understand from that but I knew which two were involved. The wooden house would have given me a better view on the situation. From up there I would have seen who was in charge and where they were hiding them. My dad, the great engineer, built my little house and he said that it was "The best tree house in the neighbourhood". It was the best house in the world if he would have asked me. But he never did. He didn't have to because he could see it in my eyes. The joy I felt when wondering inside it, checking all the little hiding places he made for me, was all that he wanted. While dad built it, my mom helped me with the spray paint. We spent ages choosing the right colours to use, we thought of army themes, then superhero, rainbows but then finally ended up painting it green on the outside, like the tree, and sky blue with coton-like clouds on the inside. It was my favourite place in the world, where I could dream away or plan my little adventures. Oh, my lovely tree house. I wonder if it would still hold me after all these years? I wonder if it would still hold my thoughts and dreams now? Would they all be too heavy for it? The tent moves a little bit and I can hear the wind blowing hard. A little siluet carrying a giggle throws three colourful easter eggs in my tent. They roll and stop right next to my feet. I smile and think how silly it may look for a grown woman to sit in a small children's tent, in her white capri pants and shirt waiting for somebody to call her out for the hunt. The eggs were most probably the sign that everything was all ready and so I decide to go out. I look around and see them looking at me with their little angel faces. There was even a dining table prepared outside, full of everything for us to enjoy at the end of the game. There was a big cake, chocolate bunnies, roasted vegetables and ham, drinks and of course a little golden cup for who ever finds the most eggs. A little bell starts the hunt and we all start running happily in all directions. We race for the eggs, some hidden in the hollow of the trees, some between the lovely spring flowers and grass. He stops me at some point, wraps his arms around me like a lasso, holding me tight as he can. We both look at the children with a diamond sparkle in our eyes and raise the golden cup "And the winner is..."
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