Fun for the Kids or Threat to the American Way of Life

The migration has been happening for as long as I can remember; always sometime around April. You walk out in the yard one day and there they are…everywhere…up in trees, in tuffs of grass, behind the gutter spout, sometimes even hiding inside of bushes – then the next day…gone. Nobody knows for sure where they come from or where the survivors of the kid raid go.

Officially, we don’t really know what they are. Unofficially, we call them Easter Eggs. They were given the name “Easter Eggs” because their migration occurs around the same time as Easter every year and they have a shape very similar to that of an egg. But their shape is where the similarities end. Unlike the egg with its white shell and runny insides that taste good fried the “Easter Egg” has a multi-colored shell and its guts (when not completely void of guts) resemble small candy bars, bubble gum and sometimes even…jelly beans.

Because of the eagerness of children to eat candy bars, bubble gum and…jelly beans, they have been led to believe that the yearly migration is meant especially for them. We release our children in hordes to find, capture and devour entire colonies of “Easter Eggs” in a matter of moments. These “Easter Eggs” seemingly pose no real threat. Their poor hiding skills and bright colors make them easy to find. And their poor reaction time and lack of situational awareness allow the kids to easily sneak up on them, snatch them up and trap them in meager baskets full of fake grass to later be torn open revealing their sweet, tasty insides. Meanwhile we just sit back and watch the massacre never carrying to wonder about the truth of the “Easter Egg” and never taking the time to ensure that the kid raid left no survivors…and there are survivors…there are always survivors.

Each year more and more “Easter Eggs” make the migration and each year more and more survive the raid. “My kids find most of them”, “There can’t be more than one or two missing”, “How harmful can a couple of sneaky plastic eggs be?” – I’ll tell how harmful they can be! Sure, your kid may only miss one or two…but so does the neighbors kid…and so does the kid down the street…and his second cousin twice removed…before you know it there are dozens of “Easter Eggs” evading capture and residing illegally inside your neighborhood. Multiply this by every neighborhood in the country duplicated year after year after year and it begins to get very scary.

These “Easter Eggs” are silently taking over our country! Before you know it they’ll be taking our jobs, draining our social security benefits and stealing our women! Go ahead and ignore the threat and one day you’ll pick up the phone to call a support line and have to press “1” to not talk “Easter Egg”!

“They aren’t all bad, they just want to make a better life for themselves,” you might say. And I might answer, “Are you insane? They’re plastic! What kind of better life could they have?” Even if only a small portion of this invading force has evil intentions, that’s still a lot of bad eggs. So you can bury your head in the sand and pretend like this is no big deal if you want but when you wake up one April morning to find young Timmy laid out in the yard with chocolate all over his face and an Easter basket smashed over his head surrounded by a bunch of evil elliptical plastic invaders covered in tattoos and wearing scary looking bandanas, don’t come crying to me.

Me? I choose to fight back! I refuse to sit back and watch these synthetic fowl progeny destroy the country I love. This is a matter of National Defense. The Easter Egg Hunt is no longer a game for children; it is time for the men of this great nation to step up and defend its borders. No longer will we sit indolently by setting our children out to take care of a job that should have been taken care of long ago. It is time to stand! Stand with me brethren! Take up arms and push back the approaching hordes! As individuals we don’t stand a chance, but as a nation we can push back this annual invasion and once again reclaim our borders. Years from now our grandchildren will read of our bravery in the history books and talk proudly of how their granddaddy stood up for what he knew was right and blew those little plastic oval invaders to smithereens.

April will no longer be the month of the invasion – it will be the month of our independence!