I tried my hardest to avoid writing a blog post with Easter as the main topic. I wanted to take the weekend off from writing and pick it back up next week. But then the unexpected happened. My wife assembled the kids Easter baskets and asked me to participate. I declined as hockey and basketball playoffs were far more important than jelly beans. So I thought.
As a supportive husband and father I told my wife in my sexiest “Barry White” voice, “baby, call me in when the baskets are assembled and we can take a photo and make a memory sugar!” She proceed to regurgitate and filed for divorce at that very moment.
I glanced at the dining room table for a moment and thought I was looking at gift baskets custom designed for Adele at the Grammys along with a Bob Ross “pretty little tree” children’s charity event painting. I could not believe what was in front of me.
All I could do was compare these modern day Easter baskets to what I as a child experienced.
First and foremost let’s talk about the meaning of Easter. I believe, and don’t quote me on this, Easter is the celebration of the resurrection of Jesus. So what in the Whoopi Goldberg butt crack does supplying our children with plastic cancer causing baskets filled with fake grass and yellow sugar marshmallow bunnies and a hollow chocolate rabbit with eyeballs made out of chalk have to do with Easter?
Next, why do we convince our children a 6ft unemployed bunny on food stamps magically breaks into our home to leave Cadburys as we spend countless hours dying hard boiled eggs?
Im pretty sure the first thing on Jesus’s to do list was to gather a bunch of children and hunt hidden plastic eggs after he carried a 1400lb wooden cross for 8 miles and had his hands and feet nailed to it left to die. I mean that would be my first choice!
WTF does this have to do with Easter? Please tell me.
Getting back to my wife’s interpretation of the proper Easter basket etiquette, I was in complete awe of the contents in the kids baskets.
For starters, there was a gallon of Elmers glue. A freakin gallon of glue!! Behind that obvious historical religious symbol of the holiday was three “Brett Michaels” tee shirts which explains Easter like Osama Bin Laden explaining world peace. Get the hell out of here.
After sifting through the baskets I finally found a piece of Easter history and something I could relate to. A black licorice jelly bean. The definition of Easter!”
Growing up my Easter baskets were constructed of leftover Chinese food containers stuffed with last years chocolate bunnies from the local Exxon gas station and if you were lucky you got a “peep” that didn’t break your wisdom teeth as you chomped down on it.
Today these kids are getting “all inclusive” vacations to the “Atlantis” and “Starbucks” gift certificates as a result of Jesus resurrecting.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure if Jesus could come back to us riding on a dolphin in the Caribbean sun with a tall “Carmel Latte” in his nail spiked hand he would choose so and call that Easter!!!!!
I get the whole fat man stuffing himself down our fireplace as he consumes our Christmas cookies and showers us with gifts. I can make that work.
Take your bunny and those marshmallow diabetes laced peeps and shove them up April the giraffes rectum!
Happy Easter all!