The first Sunday after the first full moon following the Vernal Equinox. There will be cheap, waxy chocolate, an abundance of pastel-colored crap for children of all ages and my totally favorite part, roving rabbits hiding eggs (!).
The story: Jesus, jewish vagrant, horse-thief, and apostolic gang-leader , gets arrested by the Romans (Romani ite domum, now write it 500 times) for showing off and for disappearing for twenty years and leaving gaping holes in the bible's disjointed bullshit narrative. He is then executed, dies, and three days later, rolls away the stone that covers his crypt, sees his shadow and we get another ten weeks of Spring and a movie deal with Mel Gibson. Unless Easter falls in April, which has thirty days. Then, Easter gets moved up to Memorial Day weekend and takes place after the Indianapolis 500, where Jim Nabors sings "Back Home Again In Indiana" and the winner of the race, an Italian Scotsman, gets to drink milk and lip-lock Ashley Judd.
So put your presents under the Easter Tree, make a wish and make sure you place under your pillow any teeth that have recently fallen out. Then get up really early on Sunday, get dressed up and go sit in a church and try to get caught up on the sleep you missed. Then you eat ham in celebration of famous Canadian William Shatner's birthday and make sure to save some food for the rabbit. I'll be there around noon. None of that cheap-ass shit chocolate, either. I want the good stuff.
Thus spake the rabbit.