The Easter bunny is a strange tradition. “Here kids, sit on the lap of this six foot tall rabbit that doesn’t blink. I’m sure you’ll love it.” I was waiting in line with my family and we saw kid after kid going up and either being miserable or terrified. Side note to parents: if your kid is five feet tall, it’s time to give up the Easter bunny pics. One boy up there looked old enough to buy smokes.
Gracie got up there, looked at the rodent monster and grabbed his glasses that were sewn tightly into his face. She pulled so hard, the unblinking nursery nightmare known as the Easter bunny began waving his arms frantically, calling to the staff for help. A blonde lady ran up and had to hold her arms down. I know it’s hard to believe, but the two other girls with rhinestone iPhone cases were more apathetic. The rabbit-man then leaned as far as he could from my little peanut, the Hercules of babies. Now if I can just teach her to snake his pocketwatch or wallet while he is distracted, I’ll be really parenting like a boss.