Egg hunts are a big hit with our crew. We do them in the playroom throughout the year and in the backyard on Easter Sunday. The week before Easter our village organizes an official hunt down at the baseball fields. I'm not a fan of the way it's organized. (Rule: One egg per child! And there's still not enough for everyone!) Little people walk away in tears while big dads destroy the landscape in search of The Golden Egg, which by the way was buried three feet under by some teenage "helper."
Just saying. It's kind of ridiculous as egg hunts go, but year after year we show up with baskets and smiles, exchange pleasantries with neighbors, and hey-there's-that-kid-from-Little-League! The best part of this year's event was the fact that Grandma was available to join us.