Dear Mom, It's Okay if You Hate Easter Baskets...

I hate Easter. Baskets, that is. I hate Easter baskets. That green, plastic sh*t gets all over you house, and I honestly feel like it's just another highly commercialized, having nothing-to-do with Jesus ass backwards holiday. Even if I was an avid church goer, I don't know that I would buy into the whole Easter basket thing.

I mean what the hell is an Easter basket. First off, they look terrible, like for real. I feel like whoever designs the aisles at Target and make me spend over $100 every time I walk in to buy lotion, needs to also consider putting forward a proposal to the Council of Nicea to get funding for a complete overhaul of the Easter basket experience.

Or, maybe I'm just too broke to buy the good looking ones. 'Cause them cheap wooden baskets you get, that are usually pilled high into bins at Walmart, look like Little Red Riding Hood really went too deep into the hood, dragged that ish all over the hood while she was yelling outside of the Big Bad Wolf's house for him to get his raggedy butt outside and see his son.

Every time I think about sitting that ugly little basket on my dining room table, I quickly decline the idea. For me, a less aesthetically invasive option is the way to go.

Every year that I've actually made a Easter basket ('cause yes all three of my kids are going to share that ugly thang), I've removed it from my dining room table immediate following our family gathering. God forbid you actually forget to rid yourself of the green sh*t immediately, 'cause if you don't you'll be tracking from your downstairs to your upstairs with every footstep you take for the next two weeks.