Your Honour, I wish to plead not guilty to the charges of mayhem, affray and disturbance of the peace, and undertake to pay the veterinary bills of the three visiting dogs who unfortunately consumed chocolate Easter eggs in my garden. I further undertake to pay for dry-cleaning the clothing of those parents who were vomited on while taking their children home from the Easter Egg Hunt which I freely admit, with prejudice, was held at my home.
Yes, I do believe that my public liability insurance is likely to cover most of the medical and psychological counselling expenses of the participants.
I do not, however, take responsibility for any injuries inflicted on parents by other parents when they were disputing the ownership of the Giant Choco Dinosaur Egg, which was intended as a prize for the child who contributed the most to the solving of the clues. Young Sebastian needs to learn the word ‘No’, and Jaeden’s parents need to realise that constant whingeing is no substitute for actually hunting the eggs.
Moreover, I do not accept responsibility for:
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- Sugar-rush misbehaviours of children subsequent to the hunt; I repeat that young Sebastian needs a good talking-to and Christabel needs to realise that being a clever little know-it-all doesn’t entitle her to all the bloody eggs in the hunt. After finding six eggs, the kids were meant to share; it was there in the rules that all the parents were asked to sign off on. (No, I will not replace your lounge-room rug. Get another one from Ikea. Not my problem if Angelica can’t digest fourteen Cadbury Crunchie eggs.)
- Rainforest destruction linked to palm oil production (not my fault, Cousin Dorothy and yes, I signed your petition to Nestle so what more can I do?)
- Type 2 diabetes attack in Parent A, who should have known better than to consume three Cadbury Crème Eggs and two hot cross buns in one afternoon
- Acne eruption in my teenaged niece Debbie who was supposedly here to help, and also should have known better with her known history of chocolate-related breakouts, and furthermore, I cannot be held liable for her future embarrassment when meeting a new Tinder date tomorrow (use Tea-tree oil, Debbie, like we all did in pre-snowflake eras and anyway I want my Estee Lauder lipstick back – I know it was you who borrowed it not your mum, because it doesn’t suit her and you have your dad’s colouring.)
Furthermore, yes, there were enough eggs, so there was no justification for the kind of fighting I witnessed. Remember this was a suburban kid’s treasure hunt, and should not have devolved into a zero-sum guerrilla struggle for the last Lindt bunny.
Perhaps twenty participants and their parents were a challenge to accommodate in one small suburban house, but if some parents had refrained from joining in to ‘help’ their offspring get as many eggs as possible, much conflict could have been avoided. (There was no need for fisticuffs, Nigel.)
I still do not believe that the police needed to be called.
Happy Easter.
Juliette Hughes is a freelance writer.
Main image: Broken chocolate bunnies (Getty images).