It’s the ultimate prize egg, though I’m not sure that the Easter Bunny has the muscles to lug it to a good hiding place. It’s going to show up way too much for sport in all the usual spots, nestled among the tulips or perched in the elbow of a tree branch.
But if you’re tired of Peeps and candy eggs, a local church has a deal for you. Just show up at either of two services today and you’re in the running for a 2008 Kia Spectra. It’s going to be free to someone whose name is drawn from a hat.
The Bridge Church meets at 9 and 10:45 a.m. today at the Gateway Center, 801 North Texas Blvd. I’m not sure if they’ll have the car stuffed in one of those plastic eggs, but just about everything else you can think of has been hidden in them, so maybe they pulled it off.
There was a time when you would scratch your head and wonder how an egg got stuffed with anything. But now Easter eggs by and large are plastic and come apart for hiding goodies. Plastic eggs are sanitary.
They are recyclable, if a mom is of a mind to wash and store them. They can be filled with everything from M&Ms to pennies, but somehow they just don’t seem right to me.
For one thing, the color doesn’t come off on your fingers. And grass doesn’t stick to them. Kids are missing out, as well, on the chance of botulism from improperly prepared boiled eggs.
What’s Easter evening without a good case of food poisoning?
But hardly anybody boils hen eggs anymore, and those icky candy eggs are almost extinct. That doesn’t mean that you, like everybody else, aren’t sitting around with sticky fingers and a queasy stomach at this moment, pondering the true meaning of Easter.
All year the Easter Bunny keeps his long droopy ears to the ground, listening for secret recipes. He putters around the hutch thinking, what nauseating confection of sugar and putrid pink marshmallow can I come up with this year?
Then on Easter Sunday morning he hides his wares where boys and girls are sure to find them, happy in the knowledge that each smocked, dry-clean-only frock, every little dotted Swiss pinafore, each tiny white linen jacket will arrive at church with a large chocolate smear down the front.
It’s good they’ve found a reasonable substitute for candy eggs, which are the foulest concoctions on this earth.
Parents always hated them but felt it was their duty to buy poison purple and slime green spheres and hide them in the flowerbed.
They’re hard on the outside, sticky on the inside, and no matter what color they may be, they all taste the same.
But kids still ran wildly all over the lawn tromping on the tulips and screaming each time they spotted one of the disgusting little nodules. They thought it was their duty to eat them.
Everybody knows they’ll be nauseous at some point on Easter. It’s part of the tradition.
Sickeningly sweet or rubber-ball boiled, everybody eats too many.
I hate boiled eggs. The whites are clammy. Yuck. The yellows are runny or hard, depending on whether the kids forgot them in the pot until the water boiled away or couldn’t wait to dip them in the dye. The shells invariably crack, turning the inside of the egg red or blue to match its skin. It looks inedible and it is, but hey, it’s tradition. Tongues turn lavender and bilious chartreuse.
Marshmallow creme is an equally obnoxious substance. With it the Easter Bunny makes whole rows of squashy marshmallow chickens, sticks them all together and wallows them in yellow or pink sugar crystals.
Or he fashions gooey rabbits and disguises them in a thin chocolate skin. It is this melty skin that eventually finds its way onto Easter outfits. It’s indelible.
I trekked to the nearest store to search out the latest Easter concoctions. I found peanut butter eggs. I found caramel eggs and jelly bean eggs. I didn’t actually find anything that tasted better than the candy eggs of yore.
Most children younger than the age of 2 think the tastiest Easter item in the basket is the pink plastic grass.
I have to agree.
Unless it’s an Easter Kia, of course. Now that would be sweet.
DONNA FIELDER can be reached at 940-566-6885. Her e-mail address is firstname.lastname@example.org.