Thursday, April 1, 2010

The ghost of Easter past

I’m not a religious person. My parents seemed to have me baptised just for show, and on the rare occasions that I actually attended church or Sunday school, it wasn't of my own free will. Like many people, I’m only into Christianity for the holidays. If I can get off work because Jesus got in a fight with a giant rabbit and we celebrate his victory by eating the rabbit’s eggs before its offspring can hatch and reign terror upon us once more, then so be it.

From schoolchildren, to students, to the working class (i.e. ‘proper people’), we all love a public holiday. It’s even better when they’re stacked up against the weekend, making Good Friday and Easter Monday the ultimate in long weekend technology. However, over the years I’ve found myself asking this question: Is a four day weekend, perhaps, just maybe, too many days off at once? OK, so it’s nice to have Friday off and get an early start on the weekend, and you need Saturday off to recover from the ordeal that is the Good Friday fish ‘n’ chip shop queue, then you need Sunday free to slip into a chocolate induced coma. But what’s the Monday for?
Watched the entire first series of Blossom on Youtube
Gained four kilos
Sat with a puzzled expression on my face as Oprah tried to sell me some kind of miniature teapot that you pour up your nose
Taught myself to make balloon animals (this produced mixed results. Let’s just say that if you want anything more complex than a poodle, you and I are going to have a problem. If not, I’m available for children’s birthday parties).

One year, when I was about five, I was convinced I’d seen the Easter Bunny’s shadow. I woke during the night to see a large rabbit shaped silhouette, which morphed into a stegosaurus, then a clown. I thought I was on to something huge - not only had I seen the Easter Bunny in action, I’d also discovered that he was a shape shifter. At the time, this made perfect sense. It would make sneaking into people's houses so much easier if he could disguise himself. ‘But Lauren,’ you ask, because you totally would, ‘surely if the Easter Bunny had such abilities, he’d chose something a little more inconspicuous than a clown or a dinosaur?’ Maybe. I dunno, I've never met the guy. Quit your whining, everything looks bad if you apply logic to it. Now shut up and eat your damn eggs.

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