(Part 1 in full here, or just read the recap at the start.)

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Previously on Lucy’s Evil Sadistic Egg hunts …

My partnerand I have a tradition of messing with each other via chocolate eggs . Two years ago, I came up with a Cunning Plan mid-hunt. Phase 1, two years ago, was to set up a small lockable cabinet in his mind as a VERY IMPORTANT HIDING PLACE that must be checked at all costs . Phase 2—last year, 2020, the year of constant terrible things—involved locking every last easter egg in that cabinet and then hiding the key by taping it to the back of the clock. It … didn’t work out. He got a riddle wrong, leading him to the key early. I was disappointed . But that wasn’t the whole plan . This year was time for Phase 3. Something that had been living in my head for three years without me breathing a word to him. Something that had evolved in the wake of the 2020 hunt disaster. Something I had thought through every last inch of and ironed into perfection. But sometimes real life gets in the way …

So yeah. When I originally came up with the Cunning Plan, I did not expect that for Phase 3, the most important phase, the climax, the culmination of years of mildly-sadistic daydreaming, the bit that involved a lot of heavy lifting, that I would be …

… pregnant.

I realised early on in the pregnancy this would be an issue, and set about working out how to handle it. I considered trolleys and skateboards, odd pulley systems or just risking some lifting and climbing, but when running all this past a friend, she very sensibly pointed out I was being ridiculous and she would be delighted to come around and do all the significantly physical bits.

Big thank you to her for making all this possible.

Are you ready? Did you read the recap at the top? Do you know all the key pieces in this game?

Good.

Here we go.

Easter Sunday dawned, and my partner hid all the eggs set aside for me. Credit where credit is due, he did his best job ever this year. He even used tape and twine to make things extra interesting.

And he really could have been cruel about it and put them all in places pregnancy made tricky or completely impossible for me to access, but he didn’t. I wouldn’t have blamed him if he had, not after the previous year. But he’s a sweetheart.

Unlike me.

No eggs appeared for him that morning, but later that afternoon, when he returned from an errand …

That’s right, I hid THE WHOLE MOTHERFUCKING CABINET. You remember the cabinet, right? It was in the recap.

You got it. That fellow.

This was something I had been planning for three whole years. First step, establish the cabinet as important for hiding things. Second step, hide ALL the eggs in the cabinet and then take the key, replacing it with the first in a string of riddles, and hide it. Third step, HIDE THE WHOLE MOTHERFUCKING CABINET.

Seriously, this plot took me years to pull off, please appreciate the moment. I sure did.

My partner probably would have been more impressed if, at that same moment, he hadn’t peeked through the neighbouring door to the spare bedroom and seen …

See? Sweetheart. Bless him.

I’m not totally evil. You may have noticed that along with the key to the missing cabinet, I left a note.

Or maybe I am.

See, this was the riddle he got wrong last year. The correct answer is the dictionary. The very obviously erroneous answer is the clock. Which, unfortunately, happened to be where I hid the key. Hence, he got a short-cut to the end. As I melted in disbelief and anger, I was already brainstorming how to twist the tragedy not only into the next phase of the Cunning Plan, but figuratively into him like a sharp, stabby—and again completely figurative—revenge knife.

So, this year …

Another riddle from last year. The correct answer last time was eggs, and the next riddle was in the egg carton in the fridge. This year …

… the ‘right’ answer was actually in the freezer.

Last year the answer was coins.

This year, that was not the answer. He spent a lot of time hunting, in which he became he was delightfully frustrated. He is very entertaining when he is frustrated. And very productive. He found all sorts of other things.

But after an hour, even I was getting a bit frustrated. I mean, I had been waiting for the revenge-riddle pay-offs for a whole year and some of the bigger pay-offs for three whole years.

With that little tip, he got there in the end.

The right answer from last year was the piano.

This year …

The garden shed key was missing, and it didn’t take him long to follow the clue back to the piano and find it taped to the bottom of the stool.

So finally, after a long, exhaustive hunt throughout the house, he went out into the garden to the shed to find the missing cabinet.

I followed close behind.

Now the riddle portion of the hunt was over, I could relax. It had all gone smoothly. He could no longer do anything in the wrong order. And it had been magnificent. I was satisfied.

He was not.

Days passed. Every now and then, I would come across him fossicking in some unlikely place.

Of course I’m not. What an abominable suggestion.

If I went that route, I would have eaten his eggs, not thrown them away.

I have to confess that after the disastrous 2020 hunt, I did consider doing just that. Only for a moment. At the end of the day, I’m not that sort of evil. The point of all this, as much as I might pretend otherwise, was for him to have fun. And, though he might pretend otherwise, he was having fun.

No really. It’s obvious if you know him well. There’s a little twinkle he can’t quite hide.

See? He was really keen to do the hunt.

Besides, I knew it wouldn’t take him too long to find them. Not in the big scheme of things. We had been doing some house improvements, and thanks to a few recurring chores, I knew before long he would have to accidentally stumble on them …

As he should be.

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Whew. That was a lot of illustrations. And a lot of work. And a lot of planning. I hope you enjoyed the write up. I would have made this hunt even if I didn’t have a website to share it on, of course. Plotting is fun.

Other safe stuff HERE.

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