When I was about 12 years old I woke up early, a Happy Easter morning. I searched high and low, in the oven, in the fridge, in the dryer, in the washer, and behind our chairs in the living room. I was getting really frustrated; my brothers and my sister had already found their baskets and were enjoying copious amounts of candy. Mom agreed to play hot and cold with me, I went through the house, eager to hear her tell me I was “hot.” At that point I was in the living room and still didn’t see my basket. Flustered a plunked down on an easy chair and flung my head back, saying “I give up!” Only to see my basket hanging from a hook on the ceiling!
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