I remember one of the very first Easter egg hunts I went on with my older brother. He is 4 years older than me. So, my parents set up a very worthy egg hunt in our living room. There were eggs in our potted plants, behind frames, even in my piano bench. So we were down to the very last egg which we could not find. Clue after clue, my brother and I were still baffled. Until I see my parents look up towards the top of our main entry door. They had put the last egg right above the frame hanging down. I was, back then, shorter than my brother (let him try that again, I can easily tower over him now!)…and as I raced to try to find something to get me up, he used his basketball skills to jump up and take the very last egg. I tried to be a good sport about it, but couldn’t. I guess at that age it matters more who gets the last egg rather than enjoying the fact that your favorite sibling got all the glory. In the midst of my selfish tears, my brother turned back and gave me the egg. I yanked it, so happy to open and think there was some more spare change…and there was a paper inside that read, “I love you! Happy Easter!” – that was the very best moment.
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