Saturday, April 14, 2012

The Sunday Post ~ Easter Grass, My Ass

I can only imagine that the person who invented those colorful strands of cellophane for Easter basket bottoms must be a man. Maybe it was a woman, but I'm going with a guy. My husband always tells me when I'm irked about something to write an angry letter. (This hot and humid weather really sucks. So write an angry letter!)

Mr. Inventor of plastic Easter grass, here's my letter:

I am not a fan. Sure, that plastic grass that cost only a buck looks nice at the bottom of my son's Easter basket. If only it would stay at the bottom of my son's Easter basket. No, I'm pretty sure it's breeding. Little plastic strands hiding under the sofa, disappearing into the patterns of the rugs and sticking to the undersides of stuffed animals. Your grass is so light that it wafts through the house with the greatest of ease. But the real insipidness of it is the material itself. The plastic clings to everything- almost like it's made out of cling wrap. You didn't make it out of cling wrap did you? Easter was a week ago and those clingy little strands of Easter refuse are still turning up like a bad penny. I'm not amused.

Easter grass, my ass... it's Easter trash

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