Dear Easter Bunny,
I’m a fan of your holiday, I like everything about it…
Because of you, children all over the world get a new outfit which the little girls are mostly happy with, and the little boys mostly despise. They look precious in them, so who cares if they’re uncomfortable, itchy, the new shoes rub blisters and the whole ensemble causes Mothers all over the world to chant in unison “Don’t get dirty!” …The little cherubs are cute, that’s all that matters.
I enjoy your traditional celebration food; the deviled eggs, the jelly bean eggs, the Cadbury eggs, the malted milk ball eggs, the chocolate eggs, the Reese’s peanut butter eggs, the entire line of Russell Stover creme filled eggs, the egg shaped carrot cakes. Ironically, the icon fashioned in your likeness is my least favorite, go figure. If we have some turkey or ham that’s OK too….
Following your holiday protocol, I dye the requisite hard boiled eggs. I never fail to plunk an egg into the dye filled coffee cup with more exuberance than necessary at least once, resulting in a stain on my kitchen counter for a few months. I’m OK with this…I also don’t mind having blue fingertips for a day or two because I don’t like to use that little wire egg dipping apparatus provided in the kits. It’s dumb, get some of your minions to re-think that design would ya? Thanks….
Your holiday is much more enjoyable to me now that I’ve completely removed the religious aspect of it, haven’t been to an Easter Sunday church service in decades. I’m being totally honest here when I tell you that all those imagines of Christ’s bleeding wounds freaked me the hell out as a kid….gave me nightmares. So skipping right on over that part is my adult prerogative…It’s good to be a grown-up…
For years now, our family celebrates Easter with a picnic, and of course an egg hunt. It’s a tradition that makes me happy. And since we’re picnicking in a public place, it matters not to me if every single egg gets found. The one that inevitably gets hidden so well that no one can remember where it is and ends up rotten and stinking in a month is not my problem…the little animals can take care of it, that smell is ambrosia to them so it’s a win-win for everybody…
Even though Peanut is too little to hunt eggs this year, she still has a rockin’ Easter basket, I’m sure she’ll enjoy trying to eat it….I hope it’s slobber-proof. If not, oh well….
In closing, my furry friend, I just want to Thank You for providing me with yet another completely superficial holiday fueled by commercialism as well as a legit excuse to eat candy by the truckload.
PS…there are some pretty sketchy pictures of you out there, you should get your PR people on that…you’re welcome…