for a rainy day

An Easter Basket Is The Best Way To Say I Don’t Love You Anymore

We have this really cute little saying in my family, and that saying is: “Tracy, don’t blog this!”

……….but they forgot to say that this time………….

Yesterday was Easter. I’m sure you were tipped off to this fact by (1) all the people posting photos of their families in pretty pastel clothing, and also (2) by the one day a year where it is deemed socially acceptable for grown men to put on giant bunny suits and play with your children.

And I’m sure that many of you have special Easter traditions that you carry out each year with your families. Traditions that warm your heart and make you all think “Golly-willikers, my family is the best!” In my family, that tradition which brings us all together is bitching about Easter baskets.

You see, in the days of my childhood my father made a proclamation. He sayeth, “Once you get a training bra you stop getting Easter baskets.” And as it turns out he most certainly was not bluffing when he said this horrible thing. And that proclamation has been retold over the years, earning laughter from people who didn’t have to live through it…and who didn’t try to burn their training bras in protest all those cruel years ago.

So this year my mother (beautiful Viking warrior that she is) saw this image and thought it was too funny not to send to my sister Lauren and I:

And here is the conversation that followed, 100% verbatim. Because texts are forever…. and also everybody forgot to tell me it was off the record:

Lauren: Wait…its not true right? I can handle the Easter bunny not being real, but not this

Tracy: Is this your way of saying we aren’t getting Easter baskets this year? Bc I’m not okay with that

Lauren: There are easier ways to tell us you don’t love us anymore

Tracy: This is why people turn to drugs. It’s to dull the pain of being forsaken

Peggy: I still love you though😬

Tracy: Love comes in basket form

Peggy: I am laughing so hard I have tears 😭

Tracy: It’s funny, we both do too but ours taste like sadness

Lauren: Mine taste like rage

Tracy: 

Peggy: 

Lauren: Now she is just mocking us

Tracy: We will also accept apology baskets alongside our Easter baskets

Apology baskets, in case you are wondering (and in case my mother is piecing one together right this moment), consist mostly of candy discounted the day after Easter and also tear-soaked cards with written apologies about sending you a hula-hooping unicorn gif in your hour of great need.

In other news, my darling mother (sassy she-genius that she is) baked a cake for Easter and when I wouldn’t stop asking about my Easter basket she threw a big chunk of it into a tupperwear container, added a saran wrap handle and handed it to me as a basket. Well played, mother. Well played indeed!

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This entry was published on April 17, 2017 at 5:03 pm. It’s filed under Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

3 thoughts on “An Easter Basket Is The Best Way To Say I Don’t Love You Anymore

  1. HA! I seriously can’t believe boobs are what ended your basket run. So amazing! I mean, what do training bras have to do with chocolate eggs? Honestly, great story and thanks so much for the laugh! 😂

  2. sam laughery on said:

    I didn’t get one either. Her exact words ‘you don’t need no stinking Easter basket’

    Sam

    >

  3. Sorry, not sorry I can’t share your pain. My mom’s all over the Easter basket game – even at 27 – when I live 3,000 miles away. I guess it kind of helps make up for the 3,000 miles away part. But this was a great post 🙂 Hope you get one next year, even if it’s out of the guilt generated by posts about moms who send their 27 year old daughters an Easter basket 😉

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