Easter is this Sunday, and I am totally not ready for it, as is my holiday habit. I have to go to Target and play Easter Bunny tomorrow, and I dread the whole process for the following reasons:

1. Sam thinks all Easter baskets look gay.
2. Julia hates Peeps.
3. Both boys will want action figures, which they will not get, whereas Julia will get a new play tea set to replace the one the boys demolished. This will cheese off the boys immensely.
4. The kids’ teeth will probably rot, and I’m too much of a pussy to have the Bunny leave “healthy” treats and/or toothbrushes. Yeah, that’d be a big hit.
5. I have trouble staying up later than my boys on weekends, so will have to set an alarm for some ungodly hour to go fill the baskets, which will probably wake up my boys as well.
6. On second thought, such an event would at least dispense with the Easter Bunny bullshit once and for all.

I love watching the kids enjoy children’s holidays; I get a charge out of seeing their joy on Christmas morning, Easter morning and Halloween night. But the preparation always kills me. Shit, just two days ago I was up in the dead of night disrupting a St. Patrick’s Day “leprechaun trap” in my kitchen and leaving a mocking note from the “leprechaun” for Sam, who had set the trap. At least with Halloween you don’t have to sneak about.