COLUMN: Easter

Ah, Easter weekend. The most important and oldest festival of the Christian Church.

As holidays go, it's a kind and good-natured one. No packs of costumed marauders showing up at your door threatening tricks lest you produce candy. No one comes a-wassailing demanding figgy pudding and not leaving until they get some.

It's simply a day for springtime joy, celebration, hope, faith, and of course, a semi-anthropomorphic rabbit that hides eggs around your property for little to no discernable reason.

Hunting for Easter eggs is an odd tradition -- but in the grand scheme of things, it's no weirder than shooting gunpowder into the sky to celebrate our independence or hanging a parasitic plant at Christmas to justify Yuletide sexual indescretions. I'm just not exactly sure how hunting for Easter eggs became a fun thing.

When was the last time you had an absolute blast searching for a missing item? I find myself hunting around the house for my car key on a regular basis. This usually causes me to mutter an interesting variety of words, but none of them are ever "whee!" Perhaps it would be more fun if I first boiled my car key and then painted it with festive pastel colors.

I once dated a girl with a HUGE extended family, and one of the first times I got to interact with them all was when she invited me to Easter dinner. Coming from a small clan myself, I wasn't used to epic family holidays and a house loaded with people. My goal was to make a good impression, blend into the woodwork, and try real hard not to be the center of attention.

All went well until it was time for the family Easter egg hunt. Little did I know it at the time, but their house was already crammed full of hidden eggs for all the kids to find, even the "kids" in their thirties and their invited new boyfriends.

Next thing I knew, someone yelled "GO," dust flew, and children were suddenly tearing the house apart in an egg-seeking frenzy... and I was expected to join in the fun. Within minutes, kids were beaming and showing off baskets with their completed quest. My girlfriend found her eggs in record time. I, meanwhile, had looked in every nook and cranny and had so far only found TWO of my six eggs.

And on it went until everyone had found all of their eggs. Everyone, that is, except Shane, who still had half his eggs to find. And that's how the guy who didn't want to be the center of attention instead found himself wandering around a foreign house trailed by a couple dozen people, all staring at me as I rifled through their possessions as if it were a final exam for burglary school. Minutes passed. It eventually got to the point where the egg-hiders had to resort to "you're getting warmer... no, cooler... cooler... you're very cold... VERY COLD." By the time I eventually found the last egg, I'm pretty sure I'd suffered 2-3 panic attacks and was hoping against hope that one of those plastic eggs was full of Xanax.

So I might not be a good egg finder, but I've never especially had it out for the Easter Bunny. He's just an innocent in all this and clearly a good-natured fellow with a lot of time -- and a whole lot of eggs -- on his hands.

He certainly didn't deserve what happened to him this week.

The Easter Bunny clearly has a busy schedule this time of year, so it was pretty cool that he took time out to make a public appearance at the Richland Carrousel Park in Mansfield, Ohio. He was SO excited that he tweeted about it on their blog: "My bunch of carrots were very good and I have lots of energy. I'll be at Carrousel today from 1-4 p.m. and look forward to seeing you!"

All afternoon, kids and parents lined up for their chance to take a picture with the elusive hare. One such person was 54-year-old Ladonna Hughett. Ladonna didn't have any kids with her, and let's just say she had been hitting the carrot juice a little hard that afternoon.

When it was Ladonna's turn to get a picture with the Easter Bunny, she thought it would be a fine time to play a rousing game of grope-a-bunny. Let's just say the Easter Bunny didn't exactly give express consent for this sort of behavior, and Ladonna probably should have kept her hands off the Bun's buns. (And yes, Youtube fans, it's all on video.)

That's how Ladonna Hughett became quite likely the first person ever arrested for lewd behavior against the Easter Bunny. So remember, just because a bunny tweets that they have a lot of energy does NOT mean they have THAT kind of energy, regardless of any rabbit stereotypes you may or may not have heard.

So Ladonna's in jail, the Easter Bunny is likely joining the #metoo movement as I type, and our last innocent holiday will forever be tainted with memories of bunny molestation. Given our current political climate, this seems about right. But the only climate I care about right now is the one outside that's about to warm up, so if you'll excuse me, I need to go get my spring on.