One of my most memorable Easter memories was the day we found the missing Easter egg. The Easter that spring was a wet one. Mom decided we would have the Easter egg hunt in the house. She carefully hid her real, hard-boiled Easter eggs around the house. I was too old for the search, so I watched my little sisters scurry all over the house in search of the prizes.
About six months later, it was another cold, wet day. I was assigned the task to retrieve our collie dog from behind the couch so she could take care of outdoor business. As I reached back to retrieve the reluctant pooch, I felt something cold, yet hard. At first, I was relieved it wasn’t the open snout of our dog. Then I felt queasy. I found the last Easter egg.
Too bad I didn’t keep my mouth shut. It would have come in quite handy for the upcoming Halloween season.