Easter

A rabbit brings you a basket full of eggs full of candy instead of a baby chick. But you can also find baby marshmallow chicks in your basket, just not in the eggs. You have ham for brunch.

And somehow all this is associated with the son of God being beaten and nailed to a cross.

Easter has always struck me as a very weird holiday, and it has never resonated with me. I think it's because as a kid, I could never find any consistency in it. Or any purpose. We were told it was a very solemn day, and at the same time we ate shitloads of candy and hunted around the house for eggs. It was all too disconnected for me.



Image from www.runnerduck.com


As a kid, we used to make an Easter egg tree, modeled after a Christmas tree. The big difference being that the "tree" for the Easter egg tree was a big branch my sisters and I hunted for in the back yard or elsewhere in the neighborhood. Then we put the branch in a coffee can full of dirt. The ornaments were hollowed-out, PAAS decorated Easter eggs.

So I am glad Emily has her Reuben Sandwich Day. That is a holiday I can comprehend, even if no one else really can.