Easter For “Adults”


When I was younger, every year, my mom would take my sister and me shopping for Easter dresses. This entailed matching fluffy dresses that looked like Lilly Pulitzer went 1992, and big floppy hats with ribbons that would barely stay on our heads, due to the 10 layers of mull bangs tucked up under there. As the oldest grandchild, I was a ruthless egg hunter. I didn’t give a shit if the younger ones were able to fill their baskets or not. In my floral, square-dance style dress, I could fly around that front yard–and I wasn’t exactly an athletic child. My basket would be full, and that was all that mattered. This usually resulted in a personal second egg hunt set up just for my sister to make her stop crying. At some point along the way, we quit bothering with the dresses and the egg hunts because full-grown, semi-adults in pastels arguing over eggs isn’t exactly cute. However, I realized that instead of stopping, we should have just made the Easter activities evolve with us.

Replace The Eggs

My cousin called the other day and asked if, instead of hunting eggs this year, if I would be interested in hunting little bottles of liquor in Grandma’s front yard. My answer to this question was obviously “of course,” and I further recommended we turn it into a drinking game, where each person takes down each tiny bottle as he or she finds one. I may or may not have unofficially entitled it “Pass Out for Passover.” My apologies if that’s sacrilege; however, I think I may have already dug myself that hole.

Simply Switch Up What’s In Those Eggs

In my more “mature” age, I definitely don’t need any Easter candy. You know what I do need? Money, and a lot more of it. If you tell me there’s money in those Easter eggs, I’ll be the first one out there pushing down my cousins to get to the golden egg first. I’m not above it, unless it’s not money in bill form. If I parade around out in the front yard like an escaped mental ward patient, with the neighbors staring, for coins, just know I won’t be happy.

Make Useful Easter Baskets

Once again, I definitely do not need candy, so a basket full of chocolate bunnies and peeps will go straight to work to be picked over like the Golden Corral after-church Sunday buffet. Fill those baskets with age-appropriate gifts, like wine, and an actual dozen eggs so that I don’t have to go to the store for another week. Better yet, throw in some Easter clothes that can double as spring patio-wear, or a colorful switch up from my all black work wardrobe.

Whatever you do to celebrate Easter, just remember to give thanks for a family who continues to put up with you, and pray that the higher being you look up to continues to forgive your sinful ways. I’ve said before, if I were to write an autobiography, I would call it, “I Hope God Has A Sense Of Humor.” As I write this, that’s exactly what I’m thinking.

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After stretching college out for 9 years, McMagistrate is now an attorney in her late-ish 20's who earned her title by embracing the stigma that accompanies a healthy partying habit. She enjoys showing off her sub-par golf game and pretending her impressive law school loan doesn't exist. You can likely find her on her patio, live-tweeting her wine binges, and concerning her neighbors.

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