After much preparation and planning, I managed to get the monsters into two Easter egg hunts; one occuring in the morning and one in the afternoon. After boycotting my local one (and yes - they did miss me) we decided to hit two nearby towns. After physically and mentally preparing my older two, and successfully dumping hubby and the youngest hellion at a relative's house, I drove them out to the morning hunt.

Admittedly, it was a little more than nerve wracking, showing up at an event that we were not familiar with nor had ever attended. The people there were friendly enough but I couldn't help but notice that the *obviously* over 35ish group of ladies definately loved their 16 year old low slung rhinestone jeans with matching poofy faux fur lined parkas and equally fabulous hair. While the Marlboro men of the group stuck together in their cowboy hats and Wranglers with the manly thoughts of, "we just watch the kids and womenfolk do their thang" groups. I told my kids just to "blend." No need for long-term relationships - we just wanted their golden eggs and candy.

The kids did well enough and actually managed to see a couple of friends they knew from school. They walked away with a basketful of candy and only a little whining from C-dub when he didn't win the Hotwheels Easter basket. And Mommazilla enjoyed people watching and feeling awkwardly out of place. After waiting for the slurry of F-350's and BMW's to exit the parking lot, I drove the kids home with the simple instructions to eat a hearty lunch, drink some highly caffeinated soda, and gobble down a handful of candy; the preparationfor the next hunt had began.

After force feeding false energy into my children, we then headed for the second hunt of the day, also in a nearby city. The kids were a combination of one part drowsy and one part nauseous from the killer combination of peeps and Burger King. When we finally got to the second crime scene, I unleashed the beasts from the car and found the appropriate area for them to loiter in, in preparation of the plastic egg feast.

I was a little more comfortable at this hunt especially after seeing many of the parents appearing to be a tad bit more relaxed than the morning crowd. Sweatpants, stretchy pants, ripped jeans, and a suprising amount of overalls ran abound both on the kids and the parents. My little heathens fit right in amongst the dirty, snotty faces of the other monsters.

While hubby maintained the boys, I had a chance to watch Taterbug in action with the big kids. She did me proud, standing on fences and tree trunks to reach the higher, most prized eggs. I sat back and watched from a distance, taking not only her actions but those of my neighboring parents and grandparents. It was sort difficult to determine who was who in some of these families, due to the lack of teeth, greasy uncombed hair, ill-fitting clothing and sheer physical appearance of being not well due to "issues" related in part to a white crystallized substance.

I listened to one of the couples talking (I believe they were grandma and grandpa) and watched as "Ma" clicked her little animal like tongue in and out of her mouth, between the stubs of what remained of her two front teeth. She was rapidly talking to "Pa" who was knodding in approval, rather rapidly.

Ma: YouknowPa,childrenareoureverything.Yougottasupportthosechildrenorwe'llgetpitchedouttathistown.Right,Pa?Right? Did I mention that she was talking this fast out of the corner of her mouth since the other corner held a cigarette?
Pa: RightMa.Where'ddozyoungstersgo?Hopetheygetusalottaeggs,lotsaeggsandwhiches,youknowIlikethosesammies,Ma. After this rapid succession of conversation, he takes a long draw off his cigarette and exhales it directly at Ma. Love is grand.

I don't know if they realized how quickly they were talking or about the white film that was gooping up around their mouths, but I was painfully aware and moved back to avoid being splattered by any wayward pieces of spittle.

Before I go any further, let me say that I understand that methamphetamine is a serious problem. I understand how addictive it can be and what sort of damage it does to families. I watch "Intervention" for crying out loud so I'm pretty much an expert. I can honestly say that these people were showing every possible sign and symptom of being under the influence of meth - it was textbook. What I don't care for, AT ALL, is that these people were coming to a public event under the influence of dope! Couldn't they do a hit of whatever it was afterwards at their family dinner? Or if not a dinner, snack? Oreos, milk and a line of dope? Whatever floats your boat, just don't do it in front of my kids.

Anyhoo, stepping off my soapbox...the kids enjoyed the hunt tremendously and didn't even notice the family of tweekers - but in a way, I guess one could mistake the hyperactivity caused by "Peep" abuse to be similar to that of a good 'ole geetered out gal or guy.

How was your Easter? Do you have any tales to tell 'bout wayward bunnies or lost eggs? Did you get to hunt with tweekers or were your eggy companions on a natural high?