I’ve had a bit of low-level anxiety this April about Easter.
Growing up, the Easter Bunny used to always bring me a new outfit, suitable for wearing to church that day. It was a lovely tradition that I planned to continue with my own children. Early on, in fact, the girls did get cute little dresses. Except that they had very strong opinions about their clothing preferences, and finding a dress that they were willing to wear was a challenge. In fact, it was too challenging for the Easter Bunny. For the first several years of the girls’ life, the Easter Bunny made all sorts of slacker moves, like handing out the exact same stuffed bunnies and chicks from previous years, because it turns out that if you put something away in August, toddlers forget that those furry items ever existed by the following spring, so they greet them like new. And yes, that sounds sneaky and clever, sure, but then the Easter Bunny would totally fail Easter with loser moves like gifting M with a large white chocolate bunny when it turns out she doesn’t like white chocolate anymore. Not as bad as that idiot Santa Claus, who once