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Sad bunny says:

Every Easter I have brunch with my family, and at some point people try to shove deviled eggs in my face.  I hate eggs.  I.  Hate.  Eggs.  And every time it’s the same thing, people pushing me to try a new recipe or whatever.  “No, thank you” doesn’t work – they almost pitch a fit and someone always gets their feelings hurt – usually my sister-in-law who makes the damned things – and starts crying.  How can I head this off?


NUMBER 1.  You don’t have Easter Brunch with your family.  Or anyone.  You have Easter Supper.  Know how I know that?  Because no one at a brunch would try to attack you with an ovarial cast-off, hard-boiled or otherwise.  They might push Champagne in your face, but that’s a reason to say “Yes, please,” so that’s sorted out.

NUMBER 2. How exciting that you have such a highly strung family with such inventiveness vis-à-vis d’œufs.  And how wonderful they celebrate Christ’s resurrection with something called deviled eggs.  Actually – that gives me an idea.

You could always pretend to have had a spiritual revelation that has left you with the firm conviction that utilizing ancient pre-Christian symbols of sex and fertility like bunnies and eggs deeply threaten your hopes of salvation.  You can be the one to burst into tears this year – just grab your plate and lock yourself in the guest room until supper is over.

But really, you have much bigger problems that etiquette just can’t solve.  At least – not unless the offending parties write to me.  You either have to undergo a fundamentalist conversion or stick to “No, thank you,” and realize that the tears shed have nothing to do with your or your rejection of their disgusting pagan appetizers.

That poor woman.


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