Just so you know, in case you do not know me, I am absolutely respectful and involved in celebrating the true meaning of Easter. Everything you are about to read has tongue firmly in cheek. Oh, if it takes off as an idea for whatever reason, copyright owned by me, Nigel Vanstone. A man with a love of chocolate and young cousins who take what he says quite literally.
Happily discussing Easter with my cousin Jake, aged seven. “Have you got me my Easter Eggs?” I ask. “No”, says he; “You’re too old for easter eggs.”
“So how am I going to stave off the Easter Dinosaur?”, I ask, eyes wide. “What’s the Easter Dinosaur?” he foolishly asks.
Funny you should ask. (And bear in mind, this all comes off the top of my head.)
The Easter Dinosaur is a Tyrannosaurus Rex who walks the Streets of Britain, sniffing out for Easter Eggs. The Easter Dinosaur loves Easter Eggs and spend his Easter Sunday looking for eggs. As he doesn’t have anyone to give him eggs and the Easter Bunny is scared of him, he has to roam the streets searching for other children’s eggs. Any child who does not have enough Easter Eggs at the bottom of his bed on Easter morning is sniffed out and eaten by the Easter Dinosaur. The Easter Dinosaur is tough and grumpy when he doesn’t get his eggs. You can tell the Easter Dinosaur (as opposed from the other dinosaurs roaming the street) as he has a tail that is coloured purple with pink spots, much like an Easter Egg.
Hence, I explained, I needed an egg for Easter.
“But you’re not a child.” Jake states, matter of factly.
Mental age should be taken into account, I think. Anyway in the process of staving off the Easter Dinosaur I went completely mental at the incredibly cheap prices for all the eggs. I mean, seriously, they were soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo cheap. This lot cost me 35 quid (46 Au dollars!)
Oh, and Doctor Who starts on Easter Saturday. It’s like they magnified Easter greatness by a million.