Hiding eggs and finding people

My mother and I hid eggs for the children yesterday. My father passed on the opportunity and did the dishes instead. My sister hadn't arrived yet, and our husbands were both absent (mine from illness, hers at work). So, in typical fashion, my mother and I were left to the preparations. Also in typical fashion, we were pleased to do it. We headed outside with a bowl rounded over with plastic eggs. There were four large eggs containing windup toys, four more large eggs containing premium candy, and then multitudes of smaller eggs stuffed with jelly beans and chocolate. It was a good-sized haul for four children. Mom held the bowl and fretted. She pondered how to hide the large eggs so that each of her grandchildren would find one. She worried about whether they would swap if one grandchild were to accidentally find too many special eggs. She carefully picked eggs from the bowl and hid them for the individual children: One in the high bird feeder for 11 year old Hunter; one on the ladder for 5 year old Jake; one in the flowerpot for timid 2 year old Elizabeth; a green one in the daffodils for sharp-eyed 2 year old Claire. I, on the other hand, took an armful of eggs and started chucking them around the yard. Some landed in the grass, easy to find for the girls. Some landed in the shrubbery and flowers, hard to find for the boys. An hour or so later, the kids hit the yard. Claire ripped past everyone with her "bakset" and found the most eggs. The boys took care of their sisters, finding eggs for them and crying out out, "Over here! See the pink one?" Each boy found the egg carefully placed for them by Grandma, and each of them delighted in the finding. Elizabeth hung back and watched the hoopla with wide eyes and a big smile. Claire gave Elizabeth a few eggs from her own basket. Mom ran around checking baskets for equality. I realized that I didn't know where all the eggs were hidden, and so had to comb the yard myself to make sure that none were missed. The experience is a nice summary of us. My mother always worries that someone will feel left out or unloved. I tend to dive in and then deal with the consequences later. Dad's busy taking care of the unseen details. My sister comes in late and with gusto, preferring to be the guest at every party. Our children are carving their own roles in the family, as caregivers and cooperators.