So I never thought I'd write for a kids' movie. Not in a million years. However, when I saw the movie with my sister, all I could think of after that opening bit is that boy is going to have such an advantage at that egg hunt! That little plot bunny wouldn't go away. So I had to write it. Originally posted on LiveJournal.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything. Believe me, the movie would have ended a lot differently if I did.

The O'Hare children woke up at eight o' clock on normal days, but today was different. It was the first Sunday after the first full moon after the Spring Equinox, and that meant that their alarm clocks went off at seven a.m. sharp.

"Sam!" Fred shouted, banging on his little sister's door. "Wake up!"

The door opened, and Sam looked at Fred calmly. "Where are your boots?" She asked him in the typical Sam way, the way that was calm and innocent in tone but at the same time suggested that he was incredibly behind her in terms of readiness.

Fred looked down. His sister was not only wearing her jacket over her pajamas, she also had already tugged on her rubber rain boots. He looked down at his own bare feet. "You kept them in your room?"

"I can wait for you to get yours," she said.

It occurred to Fred that Sam might be implying that if she had any head start at all, there wouldn't be any eggs to find by the time he got outside. In past years, that might be so. However, this year was different. "No," said Fred. "Go and start looking."

She shrugged. "Your loss," she said, grinning, looking confidant as she scooted by him and darted downstairs.

"Wait for your brother, Samantha," Fred heard his mother say.

"He's awake!" Sam said in protest. "Dad, that's the only rule."

"She's right, Bonnie," said Henry. "They have to wait until the other one is up, not ready."

"Fine. Have at it, sweetie," Fred heard his mother say.

Fred headed down the stairs just in time to hear their glass door slam shut. "Your sister's getting quite the head start out there, buddy," said his mother.

"Yeah," he said, tugging his boots on. "I'm not worried."

His father rolled his eyes. "And why is that?"

"Because I saw the Easter Bunny last night. I know where everything is."

His parents exchanged looks. "I see." Said his mother.

"Seriously," he said, grinning. "I saw him hopping around out there hiding everything."

"Well, I bet you'll be able to catch up to your sister fairly quickly then," said his mother. "Go on."

Fred picked up the remaining basket and exited the house. Sam had gone to the far end of the yard and was doing the same dance that she performed year after year, darting from one end of the yard to the other in a logical sweeping fashion, leaving no stone unturned. Usually, the method was very advantageous to her, but Fred thought, not this year.

He ran over to the hedge and found the egg underneath it. From there, he ran across the yard, straight to where another egg laid in the grass. Then, it was over to the garden statues, where the orange and purple one was tucked under the goose's belly. He chanced a look out of the corner of his eyes. Sam had located the purple and pink egg that was by the tree. He'd known that one was there, but it was purple and pink, so he didn't really care if Sammy found it first.

She disappeared around the corner of the house, ready to scan the backyard. He'd already been to that end, at the far side of where he could see from his room, and he knew there was nothing else there. But not Sam, and she'd continue her systematic gliding from one end to the other while he looked in places that actually could still harbor eggs.

When both siblings returned to the patio less than a quarter of an hour later, Fred's basket held many more eggs than Sam's. She studied their loot in confusion. "Freddy, how'd you do that?"

He smiled. "I just...knew where they were, I guess!"

Sam frowned. "You found every single one on the side of the house that your bedroom window is on. You cheated, didn't you?"

"No," Fred said. "I didn't leave the house until after you did. You know that. I didn't have my boots on this morning."

"I guess Freddy just did better than you this year, Samster," said their mother.

"He never beats me," she said, still looking confused.

"Let him have this one, sweetie," said their father. He bent down and whispered in her ear, "you're the one that excels most of the time, anyway."

Sam looked at her brother, then her mother, and then back at her brother, her brow wrinkled. Then she shrugged, picked up her basket of eggs, and headed back into the house. Fred picked up his own heaping basket, smiled to himself, and followed her. He wasn't going to stop gloating about finally beating her, but he knew she wouldn't stay mad at him. Not if he gave her the watermelon jelly beans.