Easter was great, Na and I colored easter eggs and took them over to my parents house for traditional ham, scalloped potatoes, asparagus and deviled eggs. Yum!

Sidenote: I was sad today when one of my coworkers informed me that they aren't really deviled eggs unless you put hot pepper or hot sauce in them. Why was I sad? because well, I've always had them without hot sauce and I love deviled eggs so much and well I sort of found myself thinking maybe other peoples deviled eggs have more spice, more excitment. Is it cheating if I only take a taste of someone elses deviled eggs?

Anyway, so after dinner my family reminisced we just can't stop ourselves when we have an audience (poor Naomi). My dad recounted that he saw a cartoon in the Sunday Post that reminded him of a story he used to tell my brother and I every Saturday before Easter when we were growing up. Billy and I would get ready for bed eagerly awaiting all of the chocolate/marshmellow bunnies that we were sure to get as soon as we found our easter baskets the next morning. My Dad would tuck us in and then we'd ask him, "Please oh please, tell us a story!" He'd protest but only for show (he liked telling the story just as much as we liked listening to it) and then he'd sit down and begin his tale.

Once upon a time there lived a mean Easter Bunny. He loved Easter, it was his favorite time of year. He'd dye the most beautiful and colorful eggs you'd ever seen. They were every color of the rainbow, and had elaborate designs on them. Nobody could resist such an Easter Egg. Then on Easter Morning he'd sneak out early before the children were up and he'd hide his eggs around the yard. Then he'd jump behind a bush where the prettiest of all of his eggs was hidden. When the children came out of the house for the Easter Egg hunt he'd lay perfectly still and he'd grin the biggest meanest grin you'd ever seen. He'd wait until the little girl or boy saw the egg in the bush. He'd crouch down, waiting, waiting, as the child got closer and closer. Then BAM, out jumped the Mean Easter Bunny and he snatched the little kid and ran all the way home where he'd cook the child in his Easter stew.

Ok so that's not exactly how it went, but you get the idea. When the Mean Easter Bunny jumps out from behind the bush my dad would always pretend to snatch us out of our beds and we'd squeal and giggle with delight. Am I boring you yet with such a Rockwellian scene?

The Mean Easter Bunny was one of our favorite stories growing up, and you wonder how it is I turned out the way I did? I liked the Mean Easter bunny so much that my first story I ever wrote in Vienna Elementary School was titled "The Mean Birthday Cake". Basically the same story, the Mean Birthday Cake would gobble up the birthday girl as soon as she blew out the candles. It had this wonderful drawing on the front of the little booklet, a Birthday Cake with evil looking fangs and other sharp teeth there might have been blood drawn in too, I don't remember. But my Mom still has that booklet hidden away somewhere in the house. I'm sure she's just holding on to it so that she can bring it out on my wedding day.

Happy Belated Easter to you all!