Each year, I'm faced with the quandry of whether or not to take the kidlets to the local Easter Egg Hunt. Do I take them to the event that draws nearly five billion people to one small area in the hopes of finding less than a couple hundred eggs? Should I really expose them to the parents who choose to hunt the eggs for their little Betty Sue or Johnny rather then letting them do it themselves? Would it be wise for my blood pressure to see my children in tears at the fact that they only got one hardboiled egg, and it was smushed?

My vote is a resounding...no.

This particular Easter Egg Hunt sucks eggs (literally) and I boycotted it last year. I'm sure they noticed my absence because I was really trying to make a statement about their overall suckiness.

Ever since I had my oldest, I had made it a point to bring her to the Hunt each year after she began walking. Initially, it was cute to follow her around while she picked up eggs, licked off the dirt, and then dropped them half eaten into her basket. As she grew and advanced into the older area, my husband and I found ourselves hearing parents prepping their children as if they were going into some sort of sporting match.

Evil Mommy: You see that, Betty? There's a whole patch of eggs over there and one looks plastic. It's a PRIZE egg.
Betty: Yeah Momma. I sees it. Watsa pize eggie for?
Evil Mommy: It's the bestest prize! You really want to get one, right?
Betty: Yeah Momma.
Evil Mommy: Then listen very carefully...As soon as they so go, you fake right, then go left...Can you do cartwheels yet sweetie?
Betty: Watsa carted wheel Momma?
Evil Mommy: That's OK honey, just do a somersault for Momma, right in front of that boy who looks like he's fast. He might fall down but that's ok 'cuz you'll get to the eggies sooner. K, sweetie pie?
Betty: O'tay Momma.

And off they'd run. The parents would be screaming from the sidelines, encouraging their little ones on and yelling at any cheater parents who crossed the lines to help their child locate eggs. It was just ugly and each year, Taterbug would come home frustrated and crying. Because of that, we hadn't even thought of going to another one until this year.

Taterbug and C-dub heard their little buddies talking about the eggstravagant hunts at the park and eggcellent prizes that one could find. When they came to me with their little hopes and dreams I quickly reminded them of what it would be like.

Too many people.
Too many cheating parents.
Tears and dirt.
A handful of plastic eggs with Dollar Store prizes.
A park full of squished eggs reaking of sulfur fumes.

And they still wanted to go. So we've settled on a plan for this year. Rather than take them to this huge obnoxious event, we settled on a smaller hunt in neighboring town. Yes, the kids may still need to throw a few elbows and maybe they'll even have to wrestle for a prized egg, but at least I know that the tears and sad feelings will be minimized. And if they aren't, well, I'll just cancel Easter egg hunting next year, if not Easter.

In conclusion, I'd like to offer a few suggestions of Easter Egg Hunt etiquette for those parents who decide to partake amongst the festivities and bring their children to an American tradition:

* Two-way radios, cellular phones, and PDA's are not allowed on the course. Your child is perfectly capable of finding their own eggs without your technological assistance.

* Do not "brief" your child prior to the hunt. Let them find their own eggs, before and after.

* Be nice to the competition. Don't send innocent children off to neighboring yards, fields, forests, highway dividers, etc., promising them that "the good eggs are over there." That's just evil and big time negative Karma points.

* Easter Egg hunts are supposed to be fun; colleges, universities and future employers do not care how many eggs your children find. Relax.

* The "Parental Line" is set-up for a reason. Have some parental restraint and don't be an ass of an egg jockey, selecting prize eggs for your children's psyche. They really don't care - as long as they get candy.

* Spend the $1.49 at Target and buy your brat a real Easter basket. Those Safeway plastic bags really don't set the mood.

* And finally, do not force your child to sit or stand with the high school student wearing the stinky Easter Bunny costume. Those vacant eyes, scratchy hair, and matted bunny tail are sure to inspire at least a half dozen killer rabbit nightmares. Who really wants to look at pictures of screaming children and a put-off bunny?

Follow my advice and I'm sure you'll be a much happier parent and have an extremely satisfied child. See you Saturday!