I’ve met the Easter bunny and he’s not what you’d expect
Easter has never meant anything to me. The only time the thought of Easter intersected my thoughts was when Passover has overlapped and my friends spent the day eating candy that I couldn’t have. Then you have a kid and you are constantly trying to stamp out videos, news, foul language, cigarettes, commercialism, pot, and what not but you can’t ignore Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. You can’t – and it’s almost cruel to do so.
So when a friend invited Tin and I to his lake house on Smith Lake in Alabama, we went, carrying nothing with us but wine and food – who knew that there was so much Easter stuff one needed to celebrate. But no worries, with the presence of a few generous and lovely men to handle the entire fabulous Easter affair – there was not only egg dying, and baskets with grass, chocolate rabbits, chocolate eggs, but there were toys exploding from the Easter bunny himself and before you knew it, Easter had not only arrived, it had overwhelmed.
I now know I have misunderstood the Easter bunny, thinking he was a being who didn’t belong in my life, but who doesn’t love rainbow colored eggs, baskets with fake grass, and chocolate everywhere, much less an excuse for a kid to feel that sense of anticipation and satisfaction.
