The balloon shaped Easter egg

This Easter, something very strange happened.

It all started on Sunday morning. I woke up to the smell of toast and Mum humming in the kitchen. I leapt out of bed, still wearing my anime pajamas, and grabbed Bubbles (my very best stuffed hippo who is totally real and definitely alive, just in case you’re new here). We tiptoed downstairs because we were on a very important mission: Easter eggs.

But when we got to the living room, something was different. There were eggs hidden under the sofa and behind cushions, as usual—but one of them wasn’t like the others.

It was HUGE.

It was SHINY.

And it was… FLOATING?

“Bubbles,” I whispered, eyes wide. “That egg is shaped like a balloon!”

Bubbles blinked. “I don’t trust it,” he said. “No egg should be floating. Eggs are for eating, not for flying.”

But I couldn’t help it. I reached up and touched it—and ZOOOOM! The egg zipped up and out the window like a rocket. And guess what? I was still holding on!

Suddenly, I was flying over rooftops and trees, holding on to the string of the balloon-shaped egg. Bubbles was clinging to my arm, shouting something about altitude and snack breaks.

We flew and flew, until we landed in the middle of a sparkly field full of Easter animals—bunnies wearing bowties, chicks in sunglasses, and even a sheep DJ playing music from a giant chocolate egg.

“Welcome, Jen!” said a lamb in a crown. “You’ve found the Egg of Adventures! Only the most curious children can catch it. You’re our special guest today!”

I got to play jellybean hopscotch with the bunnies, dance with the chicks, and eat carrot cake that made you float a little bit (just a little). Bubbles ate seventeen slices of pizza and declared the party “acceptable.”

When the sun started to set, the balloon-shaped egg floated gently back down beside me. I held on tight, said goodbye to my new friends, and whooooosh—we flew home.

When I landed in the garden, Mum was just putting jam on toast.

“Nice Easter hunt?” she asked.

I grinned. “The best.”

And Bubbles? He’s still got a marshmallow chick in his pocket. He won’t say how it got there, but I have a feeling we might see that magical egg again next year.

The End.

(But not really. Adventures never really end, do they?)