I'm too old for this

Do you remember when you were little and your family filled a bunch of bright, plastic Easter eggs and hid them around the house (or maybe the yard) and then you and your siblings/cousins/friends ran around trying to find them?\nYeah, my family still does that.\nThat's right, every year we have the annual Peyton Family Easter Egg Hunt. My sister and I were of course participants this year as well as David and Lauren, friends who came back home from California. They've both participated in this madness before. David is currently pursing a career in film and Lauren is getting ready to go to law school.\nSo let's see, if I add up the ages, divide by 4, carry the 1, divide by pi ... Yes, the average age of this year's Egg Hunt participant was just over 20.\nSomething else I feel like I should explain is that I have a lot of anxiety that builds up around this annual hunt. You see, it's not that I don't win every year, but rather, I currently have a pretty impressive streak of finishing dead last.\nIt would be one thing if I were just losing to my sister every year. I mean, she is the competitive one in the family, and her nimble arms allow her to reach behind pillows and under couches with ease. The problem is that I regularly find myself losing to people who have never even been to my house before.\nLast year, for example, we had two of David's friends over for Easter. Neither one had ever been to my house. Both of them managed to find more eggs than me. \nAnd it's not like the eggs are in new spots each year. Honestly, there just aren't that many creative places to hide bright pink plastic eggs.\nFor example, there are always at least two on the windowsill behind the curtains and there's always one in the cushions of the couch in my dad's office. In fact, the more I think about it, I could probably sit here and draw a map of each egg's hiding place.\nAnd yet I consistently come in last.\nWhat's worse is that I would be lying if I told you I didn't really care. This year I planned, I stretched, I even trash talked (and don't give me that look, it's totally legit to trash talk on Easter Sunday).\nI even tried a new strategy. Instead of going quickly from room to room, I spent more time in the higher probability spots. Alas, it was to no avail. After I was confident I had picked a room clean, my sister would waltz in (already with an overflowing basket) and pluck up four or five more eggs as if they were just sitting out in the middle of the floor.\nAll in all, I only found 16 eggs to my sister's 32.\nBut I'm not bitter. I mean, when it comes to Easter egg hunts, can you think of anything sadder than a 20-year-old sore loser?\nI can't.