Well, Maybe You Shouldn’t Date the Easter Bunny

One of my best friends for many years just turned 37 and is still single. Single and bitter, really, which differentiates her from me because I remain single and hopeful (and I am not quite 37 yet) with only occasional moments of bitterness.

Anyway, she was talking to my two and a half year old about her Easter Basket recently. (Even though Easter was several weeks ago, the Easter Bunny is still a big topic of conversation of our house, particularly the things the Easter Bunny brought in the baskets.) After discussing the contents of my daughter’s Easter basket with her, my friend H. said to me, "What the hell kind of Easter Bunny came to your house!?!"

"What are you talking about? They got tons of stuff in their Easter Baskets!" I replied.

"Yes," H. said, "But the kind of stuff is a little disturbing."

"What is disturbing about it?"

H. rattled off the list of my daughter’s Easter Basket’s contents: a jeweled tiara and wand, sparkly hair things, a pretend pink talking cell phone, a metallic orange purse with flowers, sparkle lip gloss, two small princess books, princess sparkle stickers, and a bottle of bubbles.

"So?" I said.

"What, is the Easter Bunny gay?"

Considering the contents of my daughter’s Easter basket, I could see she had a point. "But," I said, "my son’s basket had cars, balls, a red cell phone, truck books, bubbles, and train stickers. So, the Easter Bunny is actually really butch too, but he has a feminine side. He’s metrosexual, really, which is a hard thing to say about a pretend rabbit that neither one of us believes in."

"Well," she said, "I don’t think the Easter Bunny is metrosexual. He sounds like most of my ex-boyfriends - either gay or overcompensating for something."