Happy Easter- a phrase we may hear a lot this weekend.
But actually, having a happy Easter can be a tall order for some people, and I get it. Aside from the bright spring colors and tasty chocolates, we do some pretty ridiculous stuff to celebrate it. Allow me to vent some frustration for your amusement.
1. Peeps?!
Seriously- what are these things!? I guess they are supposed to look like little chicks but instead look like deformed, miniature doves. The label says they’re candy. But I think you could take a pile of Elmer’s glue, cover it in brightly colored sugar sprinkles, and you’d be hard-pressed to distinguish its flavor from that of a Peep. And God help you if you get a stale one- does 911 accept dental calls?
2. The Easter Bunny
Why do we even have the Easter Bunny? What does he do? What value does he add to the Easter experience? He’s supposed to make the kids happy, but does he? Take a look at these pics and you tell me…
This little girl seems happy enough, but look at the face on this bunny! Yikes!
3. The Easter Bonnet
If there’s an upside to these often ridiculous- looking hats, it’s….. that they can be memorable? These bonnets make my receding hairline look downright splendid.
Warning- these last two items are personal:
4. The Moravian Brass Choir
I live in historic Lititz, PA a town founded by a religious group called the Moravians. Part of their tradition includes a brass choir, and being a trumpet player myself, I appreciate that.
What I didn’t appreciate, was that nobody told me that early each Easter morning, the brass choir strolls the streets of town, playing Easter hymns. When we first moved to town, our neighbor was very active in the Moravian church. For her, that meant getting a beautiful brass serenade at 5am, right outside her window. For me it meant shooting bolt upright out of bed, in a panicked sweat, wondering if, instead of resurrecting, Jesus had actually returned to Earth to kick ass and take names.
5. The Damn Easter Bunny Again
As I mentioned I’m a trumpet player. That means playing for Easter services every year, and getting to church early. When the kids were little, the “Easter Bunny” would hide their Easter baskets somewhere around the house and they would have to find them. One year, when my daughter Bailey was in early elementary school, she was having serious doubts about the whole Easter bunny thing. She had been gently asking for a few weeks whether or not the Easter Bunny was real. I played politician and avoided the question.
But, after finding her basket, Bailey cornered me as I was about to leave for church with my trumpet.
“Dad, tell me the truth. Is the Easter bunny real? I think he’s not.”
“Are you sure you want the truth Bailey?”
“Yes- the truth.”
“Ok. The Easter bunny is fake. I ….”
“NO! NO! NO! WHY DID YOU TELL ME?! I LIKE THE EASTER BUNNY!”
Bailey ran away screaming and crying. My wife rushed down from upstairs, asking what was wrong.
“I told Bailey the Easter Bunny is fake, and I’m late for the gig. See you at church.” I said, and headed out the door.
Guess who was overlooked for Father of the Year once again that year?
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