Growing up I didn’t mind it. In fact I don’t even think that I noticed it. I never paid much attention to the plastic grass like substance in the bottom of my yearly Easter baskets. I probably didn’t pay attention to it simply because there was candy distracting me. Even as I got older I never really thought much of it until roughly Junior High. (Or is that “middle school” to you folks in the South?) Now every time Easter rolls around, and I start thinking about Easter baskets, I have one image in my mind, and only one image.

I remember it clearly, and don’t think I will ever shake the image from my mind. I was laying on my floor in my bedroom reading a book or maybe something less studious, and my parents cat walked up begging me to pet him. Easter was a few weeks back and the candy was long gone, as were the baskets. Half-way ignoring the cat and half petting him he rolled around on his back as cats do. After a while of half-hearted petting the cat sat up and looked at me, and I noticed him sitting on something shiny, thin and green. You know where this is going don’t you?

Without thinking, and still involved in what I was doing, I reached to grab the small piece of Easter grass from the carpet and under the cat. As I picked up the end of it and began to pull, I noticed slight resistance. Resistance from the carpet? Resistance from the cat refusing to stand up and let me throw this small piece of garbage away? Apparently not. The harder I pulled the more I realized that the resistance was coming from directly under the cats tail. That’s right folks. This was on it’s way out. Only now I am committed as a humane pet owner to free this cat from it’s Easter grass “situation”.

Now I’m not sure how long a single blade of Easter grass typically is, but this was one of the longer ones that’s for sure. A good foot or so. I pulled and pulled as my parents cat embarrassingly arched it’s back and glared at me with a look as if I was moving things inside him that should not be moved. He wasn’t sure how I was doing it, or why and honestly, neither was I. I continued to pull until the resistance let loose, the cat looked at me with a glance of gratefulness, and walked out of the room. Here I am, left holding an eaten, digested then partially passed, and pulled out of a cat. Neat.

So naturally it’s not my first choice for something to fill our boys Easter baskets with, but we do because we love them or something like that. Marketing geniuses do now, however, have edible Easter grass, which we tried this year, but haven’t had time to try it out on the cat.