Every year I like to recall a certain story to my boy about a certain younger boy who woke his mother up one Easter morning with urgency in his voice. This is how it goes: The young boy was poking his sleeping mother on the shoulder and whispering, "Momma, momma . . . " When her eyes came to a focus and met his, they were met with a deep concern. "I sowwy. I vewy, VEWY sowwy." The poor boy appeared to be about to cry. The still drowsy mom suddenly woke with a panic and sat up on one elbow. "Sorry about what, sweetie?" The confession was much slower coming than she would have liked, for all sorts of thoughts were racing through her mind. As he was working up his nerve, she noticed a wrapper clinched in his tiny fist and some tell-tale chocolate on his lips. Seems he had discovered the treasure left by the Easter bunny and had helped himself! "I ate the bunny's ears." "Oh? and what else?" "His tail." "And what else?" (A few tears now.) "All of him."
He knew he should not have done that, but it was pretty cute. It was quite a large bunny for one small fellow to consume at once, but he did not seem to suffer for it. He always starts with the ears and I always take a picture while he does. But not that year! And the bunnies have gotten smaller through the years -- just in case!