Dear Freakin' Easter Bunny, I'm Resigning

Dear Freakin' Easter Bunny,

I am done. I am finished with shopping for tooth rotting candy and useless trinkets for cutesy baskets that don't get appreciated anyway. Point in case:

When Mimi was three she came down stairs on Easter Sunday to get ready for church. She sat down at our counter on the bar stool and with her usual morning grumpiness she barely glanced at her Easter basket. But it was there. In front of her. There was a darling little sequin purse in the shape of a cute little bunny. She grabbed the purse and flung it over her shoulder as hard as she could, surprised she didn't fall off the bar stool. "I already gotta purse," she sputtered.

She looked at her basket, still scowling and grabbed the cute little stuffed animal puppy and sent that flying over her shoulder. "I already gotta puppy," she spewed.

Her older siblings looked at her in horror. It was like a bad Disney movie where the spoiled princess doesn't appreciate anything.

When you thought there was nothing else to say she says disgustedly, "Candy, candy, candy! There's too much candy!" It's amazing how a child that looks like a cherub could spew such utterings.

After getting some breakfast into her and she had time to wake up, she put her bunny purse over her shoulder and carried her puppy and a stash of candy to church.

But here's my complaint, Mr. Easter Bunny. I'm tired of shopping for just the right treats to make sure my children have their favorites. I really don't like getting Easter Egg dye on my fingers. My creativity has run out for little trinkets and sometimes money left in plastic Easter Eggs. And for what? A few minutes of gratification and some stupid imaginary rabbit who stops procreating for a night to drop off goodies to good girls and boys to get the credit of my hard labors.

I admit I have enjoyed using your yearly visit as a leveraging point for good behavior. But I'm going to break it to my nine year old, my seventeen year old and my nineteen year old this year there is no such thing as a carrot eating, egg packing, chocolate hoarding rabbit that comes to our house. The only thing rabbits leave are droppings - little chocolate covered raisin looking droppings.

By the way, the tooth fairy and Santa Claus will be receiving similar letters. Because it's not that they are in reality your parents - they are ME! All ME! Dad has nothing to do with it. He is always surprised on Christmas morning, too! And a fat man in a red suit gets the credit!

So I hereby resign as you. "Why?" you ask. Because you just had a birthday and my kids couldn't take the time to make a sentiment for all you do for them. But I will cherish my Santa letters, and tooth fairy letters with tiny little replies because the tooth fairy is so tiny and writes tiny.

It's not that I feel unappreciated, that I work full time now after being a stay at home mom for years so I can provide health insurance for my family. I still try to keep the house clean and bills paid and attempt to open a can or frozen dinner for them. Life has changed. So I'm going to give myself my own *&%@ presents and make myself feel special for one *&%@ day! So when they find out the Easter Bunny is not real - they are on their own. I'm leaving chocolate covered raisins.