Easter easily has the best food of any holiday. I realize on Good Friday I should be writing about forgiveness and stuff, and I’ll get to that at some point, but first things first: chocolate, more specifically chocolate bunnies.
When I was kid, every Easter we got baskets from the Easter bunny. We put the empty baskets out on Saturday night and the next morning they were filled will sugar. It was great. Peeps, marshmallow eggs, M&Ms, jelly beans, but most important: a chocolate bunny. My sister and I dove right in and inhaled as much as we could until my mom made us eat breakfast and go to church. I’m certain my Sunday School teacher hated me more than the usual amount that day given how horribly behaved I must have been.
After lunch, we got to eat our chocolate bunnies. I always ate the eyes first. They were tasty candy eyes. The carrot was next, then the ears then the face, on down until lastly the feet. I ate every bunny I can remember this way. It was a little creepy years later when I watched our old dog Murphy tear a fluffy toy to pieces: eyes first, then ears, on down. It was the first clue my insanity might, just may be, the tiniest bit, contagious.
I’ve notice in recent years people mentioning they find these bunnies creepy. I don’t get it. Maybe if I hadn’t grown up dismembering their chocolate goodness, I would feel the same way. Word to wise: advising the faint of heart to eat the candy eyes first so they don’t look at you anymore doesn’t make them feel better.
But I will not be made to feel shame for my love of the chocolate bunny or any other Easter sugar. In fact, I will pass on with pride this love to Monkey Boy. He doesn’t seem to mind the indoctrination.