Peg nearly fell out of her chair when the thunder rolled down the mountains and echoed through the valley, rattling the windows. She checked the sky and frowned. Full dark clouds were moving in, blocking out the sun and carrying the scent of rain. Great, what was she supposed to do with the pile of neon eggs she filled with treats for the kids and grandkids? She shook her head.

“Sounds like a storm’s brewing.” Jock ambled into the kitchen with an empty coffee mug.

Peg rolled her eyes. It was just like Jock to state the obvious, because even without her hearing aids, she was aware of the weather. 

“What’s the matter?” he asked, refilling his cup.

She gestured at the stack of colorful plastic she’d intended to hide outside. “I can’t expect them to search for these in a storm.”

He arched a bushy gray eyebrow over his black-framed glasses and tugged at his suspenders. She knew he didn’t think it was worth the bother, but she wasn’t ready to give up this tradition, not when it ensured the entire family descended on their home. He might cluck his tongue and give her those sidelong glances, but he loved having everyone here just as much as she did.

“I’ll scatter ‘em around the house,” he said.

“Where exactly are you gonna hide 150 eggs?”

“I dunno, here and there.” He gestured to the ceiling and around the cluttered kitchen. “I mean, some of them are in their fifties.” 

Word: thunder | Action: search