HOME / family: Snapshots of life at home.

Child's Pose How my kids found peace and tranquillity at the White House Easter Egg Roll.

By John DickersonPosted Monday, April 13, 2009, at 5:41 PM ET

Barack Obama at the White House Easter Egg RollWe are risen indeed. It's 5 a.m. the day after Easter, and the kids and I are going to the White House Easter Egg Roll. Michelle Obama's office awarded a few special tickets to Washington, D.C., public schools, and each member of my daughter's pre-K class got to take a sibling and a parent. As we wait for the school bus, my 6-year-old son and his 5-year-old sister are excited, thrilled, and grateful—all of the things you need to be when you've left a warm bed before dawn and you're too young to drink coffee.

RSS

As we ride along streets empty except for trash trucks, I pledge to myself that I'm not going to spoil this event with lessons or rules. Fortunately, the kids know how lucky they are, so I don't have to tell them. And anything they might break will be carefully cordoned off. The worst case, I figure, is I will have to ask them to please climb down from the nice Secret Service man.

Security is a relative breeze. Someone at the White House has been in touch with someone from the amusement park industry. The entry line starts hundreds of yards from the door and snakes back and forth—we're almost always moving, which makes the wait seem shorter. It's a trick that could still come in handy with the president's stimulus package.

Still, the kids are ready to explode when they finally reach the president's backyard, also known as the South Lawn of the White House. The theme of the entire event is "Let's Go Play," emphasizing physical fitness, so they're going to get a chance to run. Plus, we're at the front of our group of 6,000 visitors, so it shouldn't be too crowded.

The vast lawn is cordoned off into pens. There's a soccer demonstration and a Double Dutch stage. We sprint to the pastel sign for the Easter egg roll, a tradition celebrated at the White House since 1878. Several hundred people are already waiting to push eggs with white plastic ladles. The line winds out of sight. We race down to the other end of the lawn, to the Easter egg hunt. Hundreds stand in that line, too. We head for the Kids' Kitchen, where we can make food and eat it. There are only three tables, and they're already filled. Everywhere we look there are lines. Wow—this really is just like Disney!

I take 50 pictures of the kids with the White House in the distant background, and I plot. Remember that feeling you got in your tummy as a kid when you tried to climb over a wall? I'm getting it. The kids are expectant. They want to do something other than stand in lines. I stall for time with a series of failed stratagems:

Historical: That's the White House! The president works there.
Guilt-based: We're so lucky. Not that many people get this close.
Prospective: You'll look back on this someday.
Familial: Your grandmother used to take me to things like this.
Horticultural: Look at that rose bush!
Competitive: Spot the Cabinet member. There's Arne Duncan!

I am feeling deep empathy for Tim Geithner, and I may have even started explaining the problem of scarce government resources to the kids, until I see the crafts area nearby. The sign says "Eggspress Yourself," but despite the pun I figure it's safe. We rush in and get that exercise we were looking for. It's unplanned and mostly consists of ducking and protecting my children from other parents. There's not much room, and the other grown-ups are feeling the same stress I am. My kids are just a little insistent, but some other kids are melting down spectacularly. The solution appears to lie in getting something into their hands immediately.