Listen. I am not here to tell you there’s a right way to do things and a wrong way to do things. I’m just saying that if your Easter egg hunts don’t involve roofs, duct tape, twine, someone with an engineering degree and a mean streak, children and adults sustaining minor injuries, and at least one person crying, you’re probably screwing up Easter, and Jesus won’t be able to rise from the dead this year, and, therefore, all of humankind will, theologically speaking, be doomed to eternity in the fiery pits of hell without our Risen Savior.
So… you know. Your choice.
In case you, like the Woolseys, who have seriously questionable judgement, want to have a Hunger Games Easter egg hunt, here’s how it’s done.
Step 1: Have the kids stuff a truly ridiculous number of eggs with an insane amount of sugar.
Step 2: Hide the eggs in impossible places for maximum frustration…
… disregarding potential injuries, of course.
Do be sure to consider an egg cornucopia.
There will be blood when they discover this pile in the middle of the lawn, but I think we can all agree some things are worth losing body fluids for.
Step 3: Corral the children like cattle.
Step 4: And let ’em loose!
NOTE: some children will get trampled. ^^^ This is OK. Simply emphasize with the trodden child that the ground is an EXCELLENT perspective for finding well-hidden ground eggs. If you’ve done the prep work to foster the kind of cut-throat, to-the-death competitive streak necessary for Hunger Games egg hunting, this will work swimmingly and this won’t even be the child who cries. You can pat yourself on the back for a parenting job well done.
If you do it right, your children will have climbed fences, roofs, trees and each other.
There will be scrapes and bruises and a few parts of the yard that will never recover.
And, in the end, Jesus will rise from the dead and ascend into Heaven after a lifetime of showing us how to love God and love each other, and the Church will spend the next two millennia arguing over substitutionary atonement theory. It’s going to be rad, I tell you. RAD.
Good luck, friends! Wishing you all the very best,
P.S. When your kids are done with the Hunger Games, and if you have questionable morals, you might want to have a grown-up hunt, as well; except instead of Easter eggs, you can hunt for teeny-tiny liquor bottles. Just an idea.
P.P.S. If you do that, though, some of the less mature grown-ups will try to cheat and see where the “grown-up eggs” are being hidden.
P.P.P.S. Also, when the teenagers are in charge of hiding the grown-up eggs, you may end up scrambling up the roof for the baby vodka bottle duct taped to the highest pinnacle and then being terribly disappointed when your way more athletic cousin beats you to the prize and then mocks you for it. The jerk.
Don’t ask me how I know, though, ’cause I’ll never tell.
P.P.P.P.S. This is me with my mama. She’s wearing her brand new Easter bonnet.
😀 ^^^That lady cracks me up.^^^
P.P.P.P.P.S. Happy Easter!
8 responses to “Egg Hunting: Hunger Games Style”
[…] was done an hour early. We ate at the wrong time, as soon as food was finished. We staged our usual obnoxious, slightly (totally) unsafe Easter egg hunt using principles from the Hunger Games. By the end of the day, my littlest boys and their cousin were down to their undies, playing in […]
Some friends of ours did an adult egg hunt in the woods. Inside the eggs were actual good prizes that you really wanted to get. Because to get to them, you had to get past the snipers with paintball guns.
Hilarious. I totally want to play!
We were good parents and counted our eggs before hiding them this year, but we simply cannot find the right number now. We’re two short.
Is it possible we miscounted? Of course.
But did we? We may never know.
Okay, Beth, you have smashed my childhood idol-like worship of my dad’s ability to hide Easter eggs to smithereens! I bow the the mistress of egg hiding. Happy Easter – many blessing to your and yours! Kim
I could totally get behind this.
On the roof. You win! That is hilarious!
Also your mama’s Easter bonnet rocks.
I cannot believe you climed up the roof… Happy Easter!
One year after the parents turned over the egg hiding duties to us kids for rounds 2, 3, 4, etc., our family later found a real, hardboiled easter egg in the linen closet… in June.