EGGSTRAORDINARY BEHAVIOUR

It’s so nearly here!  Easter Sunday; the end of Lent and of abstinence for some of us – a day of great religious significance for those of a Christian persuasion, and of huge chocolate-based significance for anyone who chooses.  Which inevitably includes those at L&F HQ, where the now famous Egg hunt has morphed over the years from an almost unbearably sweet trotting round the garden of three angelic little beauties, to a violent contact sport which often draws blood.  Mr I and I hide a horrible number of astoundingly overpriced confections outside, whatever the weather, and at a pre-arranged signal our little darlings – and, of late, their partners – burst from the building and tear around, amassing as many calories as they can.  In theory they work together, pile up the bounty and then share it equally among them.  In reality, No2 son (a professional rugby player who’s built like a barn) takes on all-comers and flings them aside.  Literally.  His sister-in-law, also a prodigiously talented athlete, takes defeat very badly and challenges him fearlessly.  Her husband, No1 son (like his wife, a soldier) employs very dubious tactics and ambushes one and all.  Meanwhile my outstanding business partner waits, watches, and pounces – no fool, she – while her 6’5” partner somehow manages to melt silently into the background and then emerge, equally silently, bearing gifts.  Mr I and I look on, fondly, relieved that there’s a doctor amongst us, but wondering where the steri-strips are.