. . . I was once the only kid at an Easter egg hunt who didn’t get a single egg, not because I couldn’t find them but because I couldn’t get to them fast enough.
I too was once the only kid who didn’t get an Easter egg. It was like a nightmare . . . every time I saw an egg, another kid would appear out of nowhere to take it away.
(“I always got the most eggs,” my wife says, when I tell her about this.)
I remember crying, and a girl offering to give me one of her eggs, not so much because she wanted to but because her mom told her that she should.
More recently, whenever I took my own son to Easter egg hunts, I always said a silent prayer that he’d get at least one egg. As it turns out, he, like his mom, always got plenty of eggs.
Strangely enough, neither one of them can ever find anything around the house and they have to ask me to do it . . .