Santa Bunny

vx-005_1t[1]  When I was a child, lo those many decades ago, on Christmas Eve Santa brought a wide selection of toys – and always one big thing – spread out under the tree to be pounced upon at the crack of dawn.  Christmas morning, 1977 was the last time I rose before the sun without the aid of an alarm clock.

After Christmas, I got a smaller selection of gifts on my March birthday and a Summer toy or two – that was the time for a new bike or scooter and in between the only presents were brought by the Easter Bunny; there was no random gift-giving in between these holidays and special occasions.  Today, my daughter gets a gift once a week at the very least, and then I complain that we have a house full of crap.  No need to tell me that I need to take a long hard look in the mirror.

When I was a child, the Easter Bunny did not take requests and rarely brought a toy.  For Easter, there was one small basket beside my bed when I woke up in the morning containing a little candy, a chocolate rabbit and a couple of books.

Today, the Easter Bunny rivals Santa in the gift department.  While I have nipped in the bud the sending of a request letter, I still get the frequent response to “no” throughout the year, “well, I’ll get that from the Easter Bunny then.”  This response is usually (a) just after Christmas and Birthday so Easter is next or (b) the Christmas and Birthday wish list is so long, she has to move it to a third provider.

I remember the exact moment that the Easter Bunny became Santa.  She was 2-years-old and we were at an Egg Hunt play date for my stay-at-home mom’s group.  She climbed in a Little Tikes Cozy Coupe and wouldn’t get out.  She wouldn’t hunt eggs.  She wouldn’t play with the other kids.  She wouldn’t have a snack.  She would not get out of the car.  So a mom said, “I see what the Easter Bunny needs to bring.”

And a light bulb went off.  At that time, my child had only experienced one Easter.  She was three months old, and I gave her a stuffed baby chicken holding an Easter Egg.  No basket.  No candy, obviously.  No pretense that a giant bunny that shits colored eggs brought it.  Now, all of a sudden, I thought, the Easter Bunny can bring her a Cozy Coupe!

Well, she loved it and since it was too cold to be outside for months, she sat in the front seat of the car, strategically positioned in our living room watching Clifford and Curious George for MONTHS.

Well, after that, the dam burst and Easter Clause was born!  Now, I use the Easter Bunny as an excuse to give her things, yet not take responsibility for it myself.  So, for Easter this year, the toys spill out onto the hearth with the basket taking the place of the Christmas Tree; not there to hold the loot but to be the centerpiece that provides shelter for the new toys.

I don’t even want to tell you what the Tooth Fairy does.

Happy Easter!  Happy Spring!  Enjoy the warmer days ahead… remember, Christmas is just around the corner.


, , , , , , , , ,

About reneadijab

Renea Dijab

View all posts by reneadijab


Subscribe to our RSS feed and social profiles to receive updates.

6 Comments on “Santa Bunny”

  1. haydendlinder Says:

    All I ever got was boiled eggs.


  2. Summer Says:

    yea, my santa and easter bunny never took requests. the bunny just had a basket of candy and the tooth fairy never left more than pocket change. AND i was expected to entertain myself when my parent’s had their friends over. i was expected to do this (gasp!) in my BEDroom or in the back yard! those were the only “play rooms” at our house. kids today would never survive in my childhood home! i was the remote control to the tv and my parents chose what we watched at night. i won’t even tell you what age i was when i had to start doing my own laundry… and then my brother’s too.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: