Join Me This Year and ‘Just Say No’ to (Easter) Grass

Children across the world will wake up Sunday morning to brightly colored baskets brimming with books, toys, and treats. They will clap their little hands and squeal with delight, and I will die a little inside as I prepare for battle with my nemesis: plastic Easter grass.

Yes, plastic Easter grass-- also known as Strips O' Death, Satan's Little Helper, The Devil's Plant.

I hate plastic Easter grass. I hate it with every cell, every molecule, every atom of my cold and unfeeling heart. Plastic Easter grass is literally the worst. It's like the Andy Dick of holiday decor. Why the hate for the Easter Bunny's calling card? Allow me to explain.

1. Plastic Easter grass is not safe for kids. I mean, really. REALLY. What idiot was like, hey, let's make teeny tiny strips of suffocation hazards and give them to small children! Great idea, jerk. If ingested, it can can be fatal for kids and pets--so, all jokes aside, this stuff is basically garbage and you should never buy it.

2. It gets EVERYWHERE. When kids tear into an Easter basket, they tear into an Easter basket. I mean, you've got to comb through the nightmare grass to make sure you've uncovered every jellybean and Cadbury Egg. I get it--but while the kids are in candy overdrive, they're tossing out Easter grass like beads on Bourbon Street.

3. It's a pain in the you-know-what to clean. I am lazy, and I do not want to spend the better part of my day combing through our carpet with tweezers. Stupid plastic Easter grass is like shrapnel. It's impossible to get it all, so you end up picking it out piece... by tortuous... piece. Like, it's Sunday, okay? Mommy wants a wine glass of grown-up juice so she can watch Netflix in sweatpants--not an afternoon wasted on plastic grass recon.

4. It's just weird. It feels weird in your hands, like a lifeless sad clown wig. Also it smells.

This Easter, don't give in to peer pressure. JUST SAY NO TO GRASS.