Who’s afraid of the big, bad Easter Bunny?
Spring is finally in the air. The temperatures are rising, the clocks have been sprung ahead and as anyone who has received a Pottery Barn, Pottery Barn Kids or Williams Sonoma catalog knows, Easter is right around the corner.
Displays of pastel eggs and bunnies and everywhere as stores showcase adorable Easter dresses (with matching purses and shoes) for girls and khackis and sweater vests for boys. Let’s not even talk about the candy that has taken over Target and CVS – candy always looks better when it is miniature and in a pastel wrapper.
Before the eggs are dyed and hidden and the baskets are stuffed there is one other tradition parents, especially of little kids, partake in the obligatory Easter Bunny photo. Only in America would you see parents dress their kids up in their “Sunday best” only to be dragged to the local mall where they will wait on a huge line to sit on the lap of a man, dressed in a 7-foot bunny costume, sitting under an arch of spring flowers and decorated eggs.
If you are thinking to yourself, Gee she sounds awefully bitter you would be correct. Let me explain, I do not have anything against the Easter Bunny, I think he (or she) is great. Anyone who leaves candy (chocolate AND jelly beans) is super in my book. However, it is not me with the problem it is my kids. You see, my children fear the Bunny.
They didn’t always have a fear of the Easter Bunny. For the twins’ first Easter I dressed them up and marched them down to the Princeton Marketfair and waited for our turn with the Bunny. They sat on his lap, albeit a bit stunned, and I left smiling with my 5×7 and 4 wallets. I looked pitifully at the parents whose kids were crying and refusing to go near the Bunny never thinking that would be me.
Wasn’t I in for a surprise the following December when the twins threw a HUGE fit would not go near Santa Claus. Thinking they were just having an off day, I tried again in the spring with the Bunny and was met with a similar outcome. Two more kids came and things got no better. I was persistent. Every December and March/April I would drag my brood to the Marketfair, wait on line and then be totally disappointed when they would adamantly refuse to pose with the Bunny and/or Santa. I would pout, throw a mild tantrum, call my mother and go home photo-less.
This really should not surprise me. I was not a fan of the Bunny or Santa. I am pretty sure there are more than a couple pictures of me
screaming sitting on someone’s lap not looking happy. I just thought it would be different when it was time to take my own kids. After all, their father never cried.
The first couple times I cried (when I got in the car). When the kids got older, they would think I was a horrible mommy who didn’t care enough to take them to see the Bunny or Santa. Never would they remember the shrieks and tears, they would just see no pictures and think the worst.
Well by the time it was L’s turn to try Santa or the Bunny I had given up. I tried my best but there was no way around the fear my kids had of the gigantic bunny with an oversized plaster head. The kids will just have to take my word for it that they sobbed and refused to go under the floral arch. Instead they will have to make due with the 100s of photos of them, laughing and smiling while looking for Easter eggs or opening up their baskets. I am hoping they will not be too scarred but just in case I always have this as prood that I tried: