Easter. I think it probably brings different things to mind for everyone. I think of fluffy white bunnies, chocolate, and little kids in pastel outfits running around with baskets looking for eggs. Other people may think of church or religion. You could also think about family, big meals, and naps. But I think the resounding theme around Easter is rebirth and new beginnings, which is what makes it a holiday for almost everyone.
We were at an Easter gathering with friends yesterday (and that makes me SO HAPPY to say … friends!), and someone mentioned a 6-foot-tall Easter bunny and how religion ties into that. I’m not going to get into religion or politics here, folks, but there is something he said that I can get behind.
The 6-foot-tall version of the Easter bunny. It gives me THE CREEPS. And I’m sorry to say that I obviously passed down my dislike/fear/anxiety for life-sized people in animal costumes to Trixie.
When I was little, I imagined some of these childhood icons to be about the size of Tinkerbell—tiny and glowing, throwing off sparkles as they buzzed about their business. The tooth fairy gave strong Tinkerbell vibes, as did the Easter bunny, who hopped instead of flew but was still pretty small. Santa was larger, and I was a little leery of his size, but I also frequently confused him with God, who also had a white beard (at least in the pictures I saw), so I wasn’t afraid of him.
But Trixie was another story. She was completely terrified of what she now refers to as “magical holiday creatures” and would NOT go to sleep if she knew they were coming. Apparently, the thought of a 6-foot-tall bunny breaking into the house and walking around while we were asleep made it impossible for her to relax. And once I heard the explanation, I can’t say that I blamed her.
So that is how we started the tradition of Trixie getting ready for bed and waiting in her room while I met the Easter bunny, Santa, and the tooth fairy on the front porch at dusk on the eve of every magical creature holiday. I made a show of saying hello, passing along Trixie’s thanks, and hauling said gifts inside. Then I would call out to her that they had left, the door was locked, and she could go to sleep—knowing there would be no B&E happening or large Looney Tunes characters lurking about.
So back to dinner and the mention of a 6-foot-tall Easter bunny. How did I think of it as a cute, sweet bunny while other people picture this crazed giant stomping about? I think it’s because my parents never took me to see the Easter bunny, so my imagination went the fairy route—because that’s what I saw in books.
But unfortunately, I did expose Trixie to a giant, life-sized rabbit at an egg hunt when she was a wee small one. I can only hope it skips a generation and her kiddos will have better luck.
Of course, as an adult, small white rabbits now bring to mind flashbacks from Fatal Attraction, so I’m just not a bunny fan at all. But that’s a story for another day.
But maybe that’s the funny thing about Easter. Some of us grew up picturing tiny, sparkly creatures delivering joy in the night… and others are out here imagining a 6-foot-tall bunny breaking and entering. Either way, we survive it. And if we’re lucky, we grow up, have kids of our own, and get to rewrite the story just a little — making the magic feel a little safer, a little sweeter… and significantly less terrifying.
Even if it means standing on the front porch at dusk, pretending to chat with a 6-foot-tall bunny… so your child can believe in something small, cute, and safe. Because I don’t know about you, but I will take a Tinkerbell-sized bunny over a human-sized one any day.
Thanks for reading ~ Roxie 💙
Roxie Rides Again 