The Easter bunny came. Or as the late great Bill Hicks would say, “Mummy, there’s lincoln logs in me sock drawer!”

Isa’s uncles used to tell her, when she arrived for Easter, that the Easter bunny had just gone crashing through the window, and they had just finished replacing it, and they managed to grab just a bit of cotton from the bunny’s tail before it escaped. She bought it. How gullible.

It can’t imagine what that Easter bunny crashing through the window would look like, partly because there’s no clear image of the bunny in pop culture. We know exactly what Santa Claus looks like, but maybe the idea of a giant bunny is too ridiculous to depict. Likewise, it’s strange that there are no stories of how the bunny gets to all the houses in the world during Easter eve, or how he gets in, unlike the highly developed mythology of Santa.

I wonder how this plays out in a kid’s mind, if at all. Your parents say, Santa Claus is this fat guy with a red suit and rosy cheeks, and he rides in on flying reindeer, and comes down the chimney, and you have to give him milk and cookies, and he lives on the north pole, and he and his elves make toys for you year-round if you’re good. Oh, and also there’s this bunny that comes on Easter and gives you chocolate eggs.

I suppose having a story doesn’t make Santa any more believeable than the Easter bunny. At some point, though, kids must stop believing in the Easter bunny while they still believe in Santa. Or maybe belief and disbelief is meaningless at that point in your life. You just hear the story and it goes right into your head without question until someone tells you otherwise. Having a bunch of candy and toys to go through is enough to squelch any stray thoughts in any case. 

Fascinating, isn’t it. I hope you all hide eggs for each other and celebrate the rising of Jesus, or whichever deity to which you might ascribe.

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