Easter Madness (#34)

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Did you ever wonder how a celebration of the resurrection of Jesus, which is a foundation of the Christian faith, turned into egg-laying rabbits, gigantic baskets full of every candy known to man, and rampaging kids scouring parks for painted, hard-boiled eggs?

As a kid, Easter always meant worrying about lent. It’s the forty day period which starts on Ash Wednesday and ends on Easter Sunday. During this time you’re supposed to pray, confess your sins in confession, repent, give to the poor and fast. As a child I was expected to give up one thing I liked for forty days, and yes my Mom knew I hated broccoli. Most of the time my Mom made me give up candy. We also had to give up meat on Fridays for six weeks. Do you know why we have Easter candy? I think it’s because after those forty days of fasting we’re all, half-starved to death and we desperately need to get our blood sugar levels up.

I still haven’t figured out what’s up with the Easter Bunny. How does this tie-in with Jesus and his resurrection from the dead? I was looking at a famous picture of the last supper that shows Jesus and his Disciples. Unless they were eating rabbit, I didn’t see any rabbits at the table, did you? I even checked out the Apostles. Let’s see…….we have Peter, John, Matthew, James, Andrew……….hmmm…..no, I don’t see any Bugs Bunny, Roger Rabbit, or even that Trix rabbit that has all the kids stealing his cereal.

Hey Easter people. What’s with all the candy? I know you probably made too much last year, but come on. How much candy can we eat? Thank God it’s six months till Halloween. I still haven’t lost the ten pounds I gained since November. Between Halloween, Valentine’s Day, and now Easter I’m not only getting fat, but I got a big red pimple on the end of my nose.

I have a question. What happened to those big, solid, delicious chocolate rabbits? The ones today are all hollow inside. Can you still buy those big ones that were solid, weighed about three pounds and took you about three weeks to eat? I bought a chocolate rabbit the other day and bit off the ear and it was hollow inside. I took the head off in two bites. When I was a kid it used to take me at least an hour just to gnaw one of the ears off.

Have any of you bought any of those “Peeps” this year? If you don’t know what they are, they’re those yellow, blue, white and pink things shaped like rabbits or chicks that are soft and spongy and taste horrible. Does anyone ever eat them, or do we just buy them to mess with our kids? I looked up the ingredients of peeps, and it said this. They contain marshmallows, corn syrup, gelatin and carnauba wax. Carnauba wax? My son for some insane reason loves Peeps. He’ll eat dozens of them at one time. I guess that explains why his hair is so shiny, and he’s been sliding across the deck.

Here’s one Easter tradition I can do without; Easter egg hunts. I remember being seven or eight, and lining along a big field with what seemed like an endless sea of kids. Each of us would have either a bag or a little basket. It was tense, man. We were all like coiled springs ready to sprint out into the field, hell-bent on procuring as many eggs as possible. If Mother Teresa happened to be in front of me, I probably would have run her down.

The problem was, they would put all the toddlers in the front. If you know toddlers, all they can do is waddle around with diapers loaded with poop. They can’t find eggs, so you know what always happened? The toddler’s mothers ran out on the field and stole all the eggs, and put them in their kid’s baskets. Me and the other bigger kids were going down left and right as mothers ran us down, knocked us out-of-the-way, and grabbed handfuls of eggs. I got taken out by a soccer mom who looked like Mean Joe Greene of the Pittsburg Steelers football team, before I had gotten twenty feet.

 I have one more bit of advice. If you’re out driving around, and you see a sign that says, “For Sale. Cute Little Easter Bunnies and Adorable Chicks;” just keep driving. No matter how much little Suzie cries, don’t stop. I made the mistake a few years ago of stopping. The rabbit lasted about two hours after the cat realized he had a new play toy, and the cute, little downy chick turned into a giant, nasty chicken with a flesh ripping beak, and deadly talons. I’m still afraid to go in my backyard, where he even terrorizes my dog!

Just yesterday, I said to my dog, Chase. “Come On buddy, help me out here. I need to mow the lawn. Could you please scare Brutus over into the neighbor’s yard?” “Woof, woof woof woof, woooof.” “Okay, I know; he scares me too. What do you say I get a baseball bat? It may be lent, but it’s not Friday. Do you know what that means? We can eat fried chicken!”

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About Patrick Dykie

I'm a simple, middle class family man, living a quiet life in eastern Pennsylvania with my wife and two sons. I love to write and make people laugh. During the day, I'm an account representative, and at night I'm working hard to be a writer. I've faced some things over the past few years that have slowed me down in my dreams, but I have always been an optimist. I also have a love of life, and believe it is a precious gift. I wish you all well on your own journeys.
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