The Sunday Poll: Easter Edition

At the end of the day, Easter always reminds me of something.

I don’t like bunnies.

There are whole websites whose reason for being is photos of rabbits. Photos of cats and dogs have an endless range of character and shenanigans. But the most popular rabbit-devoted website I know of is called “Disapproving Rabbits” – effectively illustrating that as far as expression, personality and activities go, rabbits are one-note creatures. Their rodent brethren – rats, mice, squirrels – can be cheeky, amusing, disgusting, curious creatures, but I have never met a rabbit with the slightest bit of interest in a human. In my experience, rabbits do little but vibrate their noses, chew, stare, drop poo pellets like a box of BBs with a hole in it, and hop away from you.

As a child, though I loved my Easter baskets, I never really entertained the idea of the Easter Bunny, and thank goodness for that, because there is something unpleasant about rabbits – something vaguely creepy about their beady, inscrutable eyes, the worst of which are red or pink. If I had believed that there was a rabbit big enough to carry a basket and wily enough to get silently in and out of a locked house to bring me a chocolate version of himself, I would have been terrified.

This little buddy comes out every year at my parents' house for Easter. There's something I don't like about him.
I think it's the eyes. He's not thinking good thoughts about us.

A man dressing up as Santa Claus? That’s ok. But a full-grown man in a full-body bunny costume? Not so much. Somehow Easter Bunny masks always have a fuzzy, manic gleam, with pointy, disproportionate ears weirdly askew. As soon as a person puts on that grinning, buck-toothed, weird-eyed, furry white suit, something evil emanates.

And so we come to the poll.

I must be honest: there is one kind of bunny I do enjoy.
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3 Comments

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  1. That’s a seriously creepy looking bunny.

  2. Rabbits are evil embodied. Okay, maybe baby ones are cute. Maybe. But adult ones are just frightening. Imagine being followed around by a pookah. Like Jimmy Stewart was. Sure he was just acting…but did he have nightmares? How long did it take him to get over it? Dunno, maybe he actually liked them.

    I’m in your camp. Count me out on bunnophilia.

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