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On the way home from Grandma’s house last night, where some “bunny” had left candy-filled eggs, a sleepy boy asked, “When we get home, can we search the house to see if the Easter bunny came?”“No,” I said. “It will be late and I know he didn’t come to our house too.”“How can you be so sure?” he asked.(And this is where I decide it’s time to ruin his childhood. Really, Santa I don’t mind, but the whole Easter bunny thing really is silly to me. Bunnies don’t even lay eggs. Why isn’t it the Easter chick? Why do we have to pretend it is any one other than me, going in the other room which he saw me do to put the candy he saw me buy in to hiding places?)So I answer:“Because I’m the Easter bunny.”There was silence for a few seconds. Was he surprised? Was he devastated? Then….“How do you get to all the houses to leave all those eggs?”

Source: Easter | Rebecca’s Webpage

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