So, I was talking to the Easter Bunny last week. At least, I’m pretty sure it was the Easter Bunny because this weekend is Easter and he (or she) was definitely a bunny. And why else would a bunny be hopping around my front yard this time of year?
Also, I think I could smell chocolate, and I can smell chocolate from a mile away which we all know by now is a lot farther away than a kilometer. At least I think it was chocolate. It’s hard to tell on account of this time of year I always get a real intense hankering for chocolate. Doesn’t everybody? I mean – Easter, right?!
So I was telling the Easter Bunny that I really prefer those bunny-shaped chocolate animals as long as they are hollow. The solid ones hurt my teeth and they taste like soap. But I was very careful not to emphasize the “bunny” part because I didn’t want to be insensitive or politically incorrect with regard to eating bunnies. I made it quite clear that any large hollow chocolate animal or object would do this Easter. Like, say a chocolate chicken or a chocolate Darth Vader head.
I pointed out to the E.B. once again that the key messaging here was the “hollow” part. The chocolate part is a given, really. No healthy alternatives this Easter, thank you very much Easter Bunny. No Easter kale salads hidden under the couch. No socially acceptable organic facsimile eggs hidden behind the living room curtains. And certainly no sugar free, aspartame infected chocolate abominations concealed in the bookshelf either.
The E.B. just sort of nodded and boinged across the lawn and stopped under our spruce tree. Her (or his) nose was twitching and both of those long ears were wiggling so I figured the E.B. was with me so far.
“So, what’s the deal with the eggs?” I say. “I mean, when was the last time you laid an egg?” I figured I had a fair point seeing that bunnies with eggs makes about as much sense as a screen door on a submarine. “In fact,” I went on, “Bunnies don’t really lay eggs at all, do they??”
Well, I had him (or her) there, and the Bunny just kind of shrugged its shoulder area, which in a bunny is quite difficult to detect. I lowered my voice. “And speaking of eggs, to tell you the truth Easter Bunny, I don’t really like those chocolate eggs with the sticky caramel and goo inside, so you can skip those when you sneak in Easter morning.”
I winked to show that in reality I was OK with whatever I get in the way of chocolate this year. As long as it’s hollow. “I’m not really that fussy,” I said, and then I winked again to show I was being ironic. And that’s when the Easter Bunny bounded quickly away and disappeared down the street.
And I’m pretty darn sure I heard her (or him) call back to me just before vanishing: “I’ll check my list!” And that’s all the Easter Bunny said.
So I got to worrying. I’m really not sure what kind of list the Easter Bunny has, but I’m hoping the list just inventories the kinds of chocolate available for delivery, and is not the naughty or nice kind of list. Because if the Easter Bunny consults with Santa before Easter morning I just might get a hollow chocolate bunny without the chocolate part.
Maybe I’ll leave out some milk and carrots. Just to be sure.
Harley Hay is a local writer and filmmaker.