Look People: We need some Egg Hunt Standards

(Annie, before she is pummeled every year on the egg hunting field.)

Dear Children,

Look. I love you. I really do.

But we have got to have some universal standards for these Easter egg hunts. Mmmkay?

There are orange cones out on the field for a reason. It means STAND BEHIND THEM.

I don't know where your parents are. I really don't. Oh, wait! THEY ARE PUSHING YOU FURTHER ONTO THE FIELD.

Ignore them dear children.

They have forgotten what the orange cones mean. Deep inside their mommy, daddy souls they want you to win victories they never won themselves. Gently remind them that they must stand behind the orange cones too. Kinda like you do in gym class!  They will understand that.

Now children, there is no limit on the eggs you can "hunt for" in these church-sponsored-city-sponsored-mass-chaos egg hunts. But seriously, do you really need 100 eggs in your basket-made-to-carry-a-small-human-being when the poor kid next to you doesn't even have ten? Show some restraint dear children.

It's hard, I know.  Even though your mom is following you onto the field (which is totally illegal) with an extra Walmart sack (which is just tacky) so you can get enough eggs to feed your entire family (does dad really need candy for his briefcase?!?)... you don't have to follow her lead, dear children. You can find an appropriate amount of eggs, feel satisfied in your life accomplishments and then LEAVE SOME FOR THE LESS AGGRESSIVE children.

And speaking of aggression. This isn't the WWE.

Some of you run out on the field, plowing kids over like you are in a Dodgeball tournament and you are the ball. Smacking people with your body,  one by one, till you knock them all out and eliminate the competition is reeeaaallly not the heart of an Easter egg hunt. Remember, the Easter Bunny is watching, dear children.  And Jesus for that matter. I mean, seriously, some of us are trying to prepare to celebrate the Risen Lord and our salvation. All the while you're taking out kids left and right and stealing Easter eggs from poor children like mine who get on the field and freeze.

"Go Annie!" I yell. She is frozen. Mouth gaping. "Shut your mouth baby!" I yell. She doesn't hear me. She stands there in a weird daze while the WWE kids whiz by and knock her over. "BE AGGRESSIVE!!!!!!" I yell out loud.

And then I realize, oh my gosh, I just yelled be aggressive at an Easter egg hunt. I am the worst possible version of myself right now. Moms glare at me like I am the Easter Grinch.

I want to tell them, "It's your kids fault!  THERE ARE ORANGE CONES FOR A REASON, LADY!"

We go home with a basket full of strange flavored tootsie rolls. Look, churches of America, giving away the strange flavored tootsie rolls that come in the 5,000 count Sam's Club bag is the same as giving a waitress fake money with the plan of Salvation written on it. You mean to tell me we can drop 100 million dollar on church buildings but we can't get the real, chocolate flavored tootsie rolls? Can we all agree to step it up in the candy department?

Oh, dear children, don't pay attention to us parents.

Go out there and have fun. Really.

But seriously, the next time you run my kid over in your quest for 100 Easter eggs I...

ahhhhh. deep breath jenny.

Happy Egg Hunting everyone.

(Mom, what is this candy?!?)