Seaton: Poking The Bear, Easter Edition

Good morning everyone! By the time most of you are reading this, I’ll be at Dollywood with the kids. Those roller coasters don’t ride themselves, y’know, and I got myself a good deal on Tiger Balm at Costco this week.

Anyway, it’s Good Friday according to the Christians, so why don’t we spend some time today with some sharp, pointy sticks and poke a nice, big theological bear?

If you’re not of the Christian faith, Easter is basically the Super Bowl of chocolate. Forget the game in this case; it’s all about the halftime show – Cadbury Eggs, Reese’s Bunnies, and those mysterious chocolate rabbits that multiply in your pantry. Seriously, I’ve got one that’s been breeding since 2017. I call him “Warren Buffet.”

And then there’s the requisite Easter Egg hunts for children. They’re like the Hunger Games for kids. You’ve got these little tributes sprinting across lawns, eyes wide, baskets clenched, ready to pounce on any hidden treasure.

The parents? Oh, they’re the game makers. They’ve plotted the perfect hiding spots, sprinkling eggs like breadcrumbs. “May the sugar rush be ever in your favor!”

Now, Easter church services – they’re a whole different ballgame. The pastor’s up there, preaching about resurrection and redemption, while half the congregation is secretly wondering if they can sneak out early to beat the brunch crowd. And let’s be honest, the real miracle is when someone finds an empty pew next to an outlet for their dying phone.

Speaking of brunch, Easter brunch is like a culinary Olympics. Eggs Benedict, French toast, and mimosas – it’s a marathon of hollandaise sauce and day-drinking. And don’t forget the deviled eggs. Because nothing says “He is risen” like mayo-filled egg whites topped with paprika. It’s like Jesus himself whispered, “Thou shalt not waste leftovers.”

But the pièce de résistance? The chocolate bunny. You know, the one that stares at you with those beady eyes, silently judging your life choices. “Did you really need that third slice of carrot cake?” it seems to say. And then, when you finally give in and bite its head off, it’s like revenge for all those missed gym sessions.

I’m not really sure where in the articles of faith we even got the idea chocolate bunnies and candy eggs were the best way to celebrate the resurrection of Jesus Christ. Have you read the Bible? I’m pretty sure there’s not a mention of Cadbury eggs anywhere near the Easter story. Maybe a confectioner gave one to Jesus sometime around Palm Sunday, but I’m sure that’s an apocryphal tale if true.

Still, I can’t help but think a guy who died via one of the most grisly forms of execution possible—crucifixion—would shake his head in disbelief that we commemorate this rather solemn and joyous weekend by consuming chocolate effigies of woodland creatures. And bunnies don’t even lay eggs, so the combination make no sense whatsoever.

I blame Big Candy.

Anyway, here’s to Easter—a delightful mix of chocolate, church, and questionable fashion choices (looking at you, pastel suits). So, whether you’re hunting eggs, attending services, or just enjoying a lazy Sunday this weekend, remember: Life is short – eat the chocolate bunny first. Thank you, and happy Easter!

(New Sheriff Roy next week. I promise)

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