Let’s talk about Easter and the lies we tell our children, shall we? Pull up a chair and unwrap the pastel pink foil off that chocolate egg, for I am about to lay it all out for you. Tell it to you straight.
I have a daughter who is nearly five and believes everything I tell her.
I also have a son who is turning seven in a couple of weeks and he was born a skeptic. This year he accused me of being the Easter Bunny.
Friends, lovers, and acquaintances who should be friends or lovers, I found myself in quite the quagmire when he did so. You see, I feel weird about lying to my kids–even when it is to preserve the magic of a holiday. And, to be honest, Easter isn’t doing me any favours. I mean, it’s completely dropped the ball in the mascot department.
When it comes to Christmas, not only do we have a clear idea of what Santa looks like (thanks, Clement Clark Moore, Coca-Cola and others), but we’ve got a backstory! We know where he lives, who he hangs with, and what the man drives. We even know his favourite foods.
The Easter Bunny? I don’t know, guys and dolls. Is he supposed to look like this?
Or does the Easter Bunny look like this?
….For the love of all that is good and chocolate, TELL me the Easter Bunny isn’t supposed to look like THIS:
Furthermore, where does the Easter Bunny live? How does he get in our houses? Why does he leave us egg and chick-shaped candy? Are we supposed to be doing something in return?
Look, Easter celebrating world: if you want me to continue with this ridiculous charade, give me something to work with.
In the meantime, my daughter continues to believe with her whole heart that there is some nondescript anthropomorphized rabbit hopping into the homes of children and leaving them chocolate and gifts.
My son? He really appreciated the candy and pokémon cards I left for him around the house this year.