I love holidays. Actually any excuse for a good celebration is fine by me. I like elaborate birthday parties and I start celebrating Christmas in November. If it involves my family coming together for good food and togetherness, I’m in favor. Except, of course, for Easter. I’m not sure what it is, but I just cannot get in to all the messy obnoxiousness that is Easter.
Now, before anyone gets confused or offended, I fully understand the religious significance of Easter and Holy Week. Even though I’m not in a confident and sure place with my faith, our family is rather devout. My daughter will attend Easter Mass with my mother-in-law and has been singing Brethren hymns with my mom all week long.
It is not the religious aspects of this holiday that make me dislike Easter. In fact, if we stuck to the Biblical backround for Easter, I think that I would enjoy it much more. Again, not because I’m extremely religious, but because I understand the significance of this week for Christianity and I understand why we need to celebrate it.
You want to know what I don’t understand? And what makes Easter the worst holiday ever? Everything else.
Seriously, let me count the ways that Easter is the worst holiday. The candy is absolutely horrendous. Peeps and jelly beans? I would take more pleasure from sipping spooning sugar into my mouth and it would give me the same effect. Cadbury Eggs have some redeeming qualities, but they’re too big. You eat one half of one and it’s enough. Then you sit the other half down to finish later and the middle oozes out onto the counter.
Then, there’s this decorating egg business. It has to be the most messy, least fun craft project for kids ever invented. Sure, let’s use dye with young children, why not? And let’s do it on an extremely fragile surface that spoils. Parents are so worried about the mess that they end up doing most of the work for their children, while the kids sit there wondering why pink and blue eggs are such a big deal.
Let’s not forget the Easter Bunny. As far as I’m concerned, the Easter Bunny is the final piece of fake pink “grass” that broke the holiday’s back. At least at Christmas, a nice old man with a beard who builds toys seems semi-reasonable. A six foot bunny that delivers eggs is just plain confusing. My four year keeps asking why a bird doesn’t deliver the eggs. Or a snake, (she recently discovered that they lay eggs). Who hatches these eggs? I tried to explain that they’re plastic, which only led to more confusion. “Why does a rabbit have plastic eggs, Mom?” There’s no good answer to that question.
Then, she came up with the idea of an Easter Bunny Dog who flies through the air and hides dog treats for puppies all over the world. I couldn’t argue with her. It seemed just as plausible as a six foot rabbit with plastic eggs.
Easter just seems like a lot of effort for very little payback. Your kids get some eggs with melted candy inside. You have to buy baskets and pretend that a great big bunny delivered them while you were at Church. And the decorations are going to start to smell a couple days from now.
In my house, we’re celebrating a traditional Easter. Christ is risen, Hallelujah. We’re going to sing “He Lives” as loud as we can and my mother-in-law is going to lead us in prayer before dinner. But we aren’t going to decorate eggs and there won’t be a Peep in sight. Wake me up for Mother’s Day.