The advertisements had been calling to my family for weeks. There was to be a huge event on post for children, which would include an Easter egg hunt. Yasssss! Like many other military families, I enjoy attending events on post for the military community. Providing space for children to burn off energy is always a welcome gesture for parents.
So imagine my surprise when I witnessed the horror that was the Easter egg hunt. Among the colorful plastic egg-filled treasures in the grass was what can only be described as a scene out of 300.
Grass went flying and baskets became weapons. Some of these parents equipped their children with actual picnic sized baskets. As they overflowed, I looked at my darling child to see that about 3 adult rear ends were in her precious little face. Parents were bent over guiding their missiles from one handful of eggs to the next.
The swarm became so great that Easter eggs were no longer visible. Hell, my child wasn’t even visible anymore. As I elbowed my way into the abyss, I located my sweetheart near the Easter bunny. As I peered into her basket, I noticed that she had only picked up two eggs. Her excitement to see the Easter bunny was greater than her desire to do combat for Easter eggs.
As I sit here haunted by the scene I witnessed, I feel the need to let all the Karen & Debras know that not only were their booty cheeks pushing my child out of the way, their wildebeest behavior was for a few pieces of Now & Laters and Smarties. Maybe a Dollar Tree trinket or two. At the end of the day though, you smell like failure and 2-day old USO hot dogs.