Peter Cottontail, you better go on hopping down some other bunny trail if you try to bring me this stuff.
- That terrible Easter grass that gets all over the place. Nobody likes that. You know the toddler is going to try and eat it just to freak you out.
- The chocolate bunnies that are weird flavors. Nope, I don’t want an orange chocolate bunny. Just regular milk chocolate, preferably Esther Price (even if you have to buy it after Easter, I don’t care. I gave it up for Lent so after Easter is the perfect time to eat it).
- An Easter basket that my kids got into first. Nothing like a half-eaten bunny, Easter grass under the couch, jewelry or whatever my mom got me missing several beads, and the Easter bonnet covered in marker.
- Don’t get me Easter baskets for the kids and then let me forget where I hid them. Finding ant-infested horror baskets later in my closet is not my favorite thing.
- No, I don’t want live chicks or live baby bunnies. I love them and I will come visit them when your kids give them to you, but I value their lives too much to bring another living thing into this house.
- I don’t want to explain biology to my kids when they ask why bunnies don’t lay eggs. “Well if they don’t lay eggs, what happens? Where do babies come from? What’s a penis?” I’m not ready for that. “I don’t know what a penis is, sorry, kids.”
- Springtime baby animals are nice and cute. Springtime scary mommy animals are not cute, especially when they’re chasing me around the pond just because I decided to walk around there.
- I don’t want Grandma’s colored eggs when she doesn’t cook them all the way through and you crack them open to find that you can’t do anything with that. That’s gross.
- I don’t want egg salad made from multi-colored Easter eggs. Eating Grandma’s egg salad is scary enough for the above reason but putting weird colors into it takes it to a whole different level of terror.
- On a similar vein, I don’t want those colored egg kits that make my house smell like vinegar. Totally not worth it. Just color them with marker, I don’t even care anymore.
- No, I don’t want ham and I don’t understand why ham was ever the official food of Easter (even though my name is Hammaker – whatever, I didn’t name myself). The second official food of Easter is Grandma’s half-cooked (let’s say “soft-boiled”) colored eggs.
You best be hopping the other way unless you’re bringing tacos or a meal that someone else made so I don’t have to cook.
