This is how my Easters will go:
7 Days before Easter:
I lie in bed and tell my children I am dying. I then proceed to tell them how disappointed I am with all of their shortcomings. Then I tell them that their mother and I have been struggling financially so when I go, they will not only lose everything but be in terrible debt. Anyways, use your imagination and you pretty much get the picture. But then i go on to tell my oldest son that he now has to stop fucking up and be the man of the house- Bare in mind that this celebration will only last until the children are about 9 or ten. At which point I'll have a scotch or two with him and tell him he has to leave me and read David Copperfield before he goes to bed.
At this point, I'll be left alone and I can watch TV or go to bed.
When the morning comes my wife will tell the children that I died in the middle of the night and she buried me in the back yard behind a large boulder. Then she will tell them that she never loved me and that all of the children were mistakes, and she wasn't even sure if any of the children were mine, at which point she will tell them that she has to leave to be with the Count of Monte Cristo.
From that point, and for the next week. My wife and I will be on vacation. Somewhere nice and without kids... And I know you're thinking, "That's so irresponsible!/That's terrible parenting!" But relax, I got it covered. My father (who would love this idea) would come by to watch the kids. At which point he would continue to tell the kids that all of this was their fault. For not doing better in school or winning enough trophies.
When Easter rolls around, my father will play the kids an animated movie that describes the whole Easter story and afterwards he brings them back to my grave. Where they find the boulder moved and my corpse gone... implying that, well you know. My dad would then take my kids out shopping to get welcome back gifts for me.
After they came back to my house with the gifts I will test their preparedness for a zombie attack by dirtying myself up in some old clothes and surprise attacking my father and the kids.
First, I pop out and bite my father while screaming and then run away in to the shadows. Then my father would give my son a pistol with blanks and would tell him that he has to protect his sister, but first he would tell my son that he had to shoot him before he becomes a zombie. This builds character.
Then it's me versus my kids... if I win, no Christmas. If they win, they get respect and ice cream. Then we watch 28 days later.
