|The best part about Easter Sunday was undoubtedly the chocolate egg hunt. My brother and I were never sure exactly when the Easter bunny had time to visit our garden and hide the small colourful foil wrapped eggs between the flowers and plants, but we sure had a great deal of fun trying to spot them. Because it's a national holiday, our family was always off together. Our nana would come over, and if it was a sunny day we would have tea and Kit Kats on the front lawn with a cool sea breeze blowing over us. Our dogs Sam and Harry would be out, chasing bees and begging for morsels of biscuits. We could never refuse their puppy dog eyes. The other children in the street would come down around 12pm, and then the race would begin. Ready, steady, go...and suddenly, as if by magic, small glinting clusters of eggs would blossom between the flowers and we would yelp, scream, point and run towards them, to grab them between our small hands before anyone else could get them. We would tear off the foil wrapping and cram them into our mouths, chocolate smudging our fingers and cheeks. As the mad rush continued and our bellies began to burst, we instead crushed them into our pockets and bags, storing them like squirrels with nuts for a less chocolate-abundant day.