A reprieve, for now.

Happy, weird Easter.

For those who celebrate the holiday, I hope you've shared the day with family and friends -- together or at a distance.

A

I'm feeling the pang of traditions put on hiatus by this pandemic, eased a bit by the flurry of shared messages and photos that came pinging throughout the day.

My extended family has a dark tradition of beheading the holiday butters: bunnies, lambs, turkeys. (I think even Santa lost his head one year.)

The role of executioner rotates through the grandchildren. Don't worry, we did not traumatize them at an early age. We waited until their sense of humor veered to the dark side before handing them the butter knife.

For now, I've stashed this year’s bunny butter in our refrigerator. 

His “best by” date is July 21, and I’m hoping we’ll be able to celebrate Easter together by then.

Alas, the bunny’s next stop is the freezer.

Not sure which fate is worse.

This guy's not having the happiest of Easters.
(He is delicious, though.)