When I was little, my siblings and I had generously-sized Easter baskets, but my younger brother’s put the rest of ours to shame. It was both long and wide, and shallow, so it looked like a small boat floating on the carpet of our living room. I admit I had some basket envy until my mom once mentioned that the problem with his enormous basket was — in her efforts to divide all the basket contents equally — his never looked full.

For whatever reason, this is one of those off-hand remarks made by a parent that sticks with you, so when I picked out baskets for my own children many years later, I pointedly opted for relatively small sizes.

What makes the cut in our small baskets?

Every year:

1. Astronaut ice cream (no seasonal significance, but a tradition nonetheless).
2. A few sweets.
3. A token gift – usually something related to the warming weather and more time spent outside. This year: gallons of bubble juice refills. Last year: kids binoculars for outside adventures. The year before: a water table to compensate for being in the thick of COVID lock-downs and desperately needing new ways to entertain them for extended periods.
4. The same Easter grass as last year (is this cheap? Or just not wasteful? Jury is out).

And, of course, for C who neither consumes sweets nor needs any new amusement given the over-abundance of hand-me-down toys in our home, an assortment of his favorite Puffs and Yogurt Melts.

For the record, 2 of my favorite Easter basket memories growing up were when I got the Beatles White Album in my basket during high school, and when my mom filled our baskets as adults with fancy cheese, crackers, meats, and a bottle of wine.

From our home, which I thought had a set number of hidden eggs in it as of this morning, but found out when the boys exceeded that number that Dave hid an additional (amount unknown) set from the grandparents… Happy Easter. If you visit in the coming weeks and find an egg, there will be a cash reward.