A few people have been shocked that I don’t do the whole Easter Bunny thing. I hide eggs, do candy, etc. but I don’t claim it’s from anyone but mom and dad. Here’s my big secret: I hate the Easter Bunny.
I admit, I have a few religious objections. I don’t lean to the right politically and I’m not a nutjob (at least, not concerning religion), but we celebrate Easter as a religious holiday rather than the start of spring, and the Easter Bunny seems to detract from that.
So that’s my holier-than-thou version of why I eschew the Easter Bunny. But really? He freaks me out. Behold:
It’s like somebody dressed as a bunny escaped from a psychiatric facility. This horror came from a website that offers singing telegrams and balloon deliveries. “The Easter Bunny will bring a full basket of Easter Treats for your kids, spouse or special friends along with Magic, singing, stories, and optional musical accompaniments.” And a lifetime of therapy. And I just noticed that Magic is capitalized, so now I’m thinking she brings a box full of Magic: The Gathering cards with her, which catapults the whole experience into something truly surreal.
I’m not a total ogre. I’ll do the Santa thing and probably end up playing the tooth fairy. But giant empty-eyed, egg-bringing bunnies? A girl’s gotta draw the line somewhere.