1. The Easter Bunny. I would never take candy from a strange lagomorph. There was a man in one of those giant bunny costumes at my Metro stop the other morning. It was really skeevy, especially with those cold, dead, plastic eyes. I hated the false good cheer of his pastel bow-tie.
Conclusion: I could never be a furry. Also, the Easter Bunny is creepy with a capital FREAK.
2. Those plastic eggs. They make me think of tiny little alien pods, about to unleash a master race of thumb-sized conquering Liberaces.
Conclusion: Just give me the candy.
3. Dyeing Easter eggs. This was one of those things we never did at my house, as my mom attributed it to American inefficiency. Why go to the effort of tarting up something you plan on eating, anyway?
Conclusion: I was in my mid-20s before I stopped eating the garnishes at upscale restaurants.
4. Easter Ham. If it came from a pig, I don't need a special occasion to eat it.
Conclusion: I shouldn't have had mac and cheese with a side of fries last night. I should have had a side of ham.
Oh, there are things I like about Easter. Buying myself a new frock, but never quite making it to church. Church lady hats. Cadbury Creme Eggs. Jesus. Candy, and lots of it. Watching my then-boyfriend's nieces collide in a frantic Easter Egg hunt. And, of course, candy.
In the comments, try to soothe my squeamishness.