Hoppin’ down the bunny trail

What is it about those colorful plastic eggs that make kids and parents go nuts? (AP)

Here it is, Easter weekend, biggest religious festival on
the Christian calendar, representing Rebirth. Triumph
over Death.

And that is why millions of parents celebrate, by
hiding hard-boiled camouflaged poultry embryos and forcing
their children to find them.

Because nothing says “Rebirth” like a rainbow basket of
hardened cholesterol. At least that’s what we USED to do.

Now, of course, the actual Easter Eggs have been replaced
by Spring Spheres filled with candy — to teach kids where
baby Reeses Pieces come from, sort of a birds and bees
lesson. And the parents in my day have been replaced by
helicopter parents on a mission to make sure their kid
gets enough eggs to feel validated.

Because nothing scars a kid like not having enough Reeses
Pieces to celebrate the Resurrection of the Lord.

So you have these helicopter parents coaching kids during
the Easter egg hunt. ‘Now son, you see that kid over
there, that’s Trevor. I want to see his head sideways:

“Respect comes from fear.”

Respect comes from fear and that little egg-hog Trevor
needs to find that out.

“They’re going to be shocked with our contact, they’re
going to be shocked by our speed.”

OK, that was actually the New Orleans Saints locker room,
but this is what it’s become! Every kid has to get
their basket of plastic candy-filled eggs!

And there’s the problem; we’ve made these darned plastic
eggs so appealing, of course a kid is upset when he
doesn’t find one!

Just go back to the REAL eggs. I hated those dang real
eggs. In my day, not finding an egg meant one less dry
crumbly yolk to choke on. If we couldn’t find an egg,
we weren’t crying, we were grateful!

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