Daily A~Musing #54: Bunnies...Especially the Easter Bunny Cuz He Brings Candy

Yeah, I know.  I'm pagan, right?  So, what's the deal with Easter?  Well, when my son was younger, I didn't want him burned at the stake in the middle of our village, so I made an effort to celebrate Spring Equinox AND Easter so when all his friends talked about what the bunny brought them, he'd have something to contribute to the conversation.  Besides...most Easter symbols are still pagan symbols of life and fertility, so I feel totally comfy with all that.  I've never viewed the world as "pagan-and-other" just "pagan-and-also."  Plenty of room for all perspectives in my little corner of the universe.Here's a picture of a guy in Germany who managed to catch the Easter bunny hot, um, pawed, rummaging through his house on Easter morning:Silly rabbit, trix are for kids.

At our house, the Easter bunny brings us candy baskets and we have an egg hunt.  Up until a couple of years ago we had two egg hunts:  dyed boiled egg hunt and scavenger hunt with fancy metal versions Faberge Eggs where one of us gets a BIG pressie at the end of the search.  This year was my son's turn.  (Last year was my turn.  I almost soaked my pressie with plant water. Tad hid the holy trinity of Simon Pegg movies~Shaun of the Dead, Hot Fuzz, and Run Fat Boy Run, amen~under some flowers in the diningroom.  Clever, but not very smart considering my talent for destruction.)

This year, I had to do some fancy footwork just to convince my 16-year-old to be home on Sunday.  It's funny how a family can do the same exact traditions every year, then suddenly the hormones kick in and their minds go utterly blank.

"So, come home Saturday night okay?"

"Why?"

"Sunday is Easter."

"So?"

"It's family time.  Remember? Egg hunt, etc."

"I already know what I'm getting for Easter.  Dad's giving me texting."

Sigh.  "Okay, but you don't know what the Easter bunny's bringing you...."

Scoff.  "So I can't go out all weekend?"

Arggh.  "No, I didn't say that.  You can go out Friday and Saturday, just come home, SLEEP IN YOUR OWN BED, and be with us in the morning so we can spend some time together."

Scowl.  "Fine.  Whatever."

Ahhh.  The sweet blessings of children.  So, he DID, in fact come home and we did have a lovely morning of exceedingly unhealthy thick cut bacon and pancakes for breakfast.  He did his scavenger hunt (which required a great deal of assistance...he's not exactly a 'hunter') and he procured his Gorillaz cd, which Tad spent the next hour attempting to wrest from him to download into his ipod.  (Did I remember to mention the part where Tad removed his chocolate bunny from his basket and sang Peter Cottontail while making the bunny bounce along the porch railing as my son hunted for eggies outside?  Yeah.  For those who know what my husband looks like, this is highly amusing.  6' 2", 250lbs, bald with handlebar stache, earrings and tattoos up both arms.  Singing.  Bouncing a chocolate bunny.  Priceless.