Bill returned from England Monday night. His suitcase was filled with English Easter chocolate from Auntie, Grandma, and friends for the boys, for Bill, and for me. English Cadbury must be made by the same English cows that produce double cream for morning coffee and clotted cream for scones and jam. The creaminess is incomparable. Fresh Cadbury was much needed after a strange visit from the Easter Bunny. Will and Liam’s baskets were filled with little gifts but not a single chocolate bunny in sight. Or chocolate egg. Or sticky peep. However, the Easter Bunny had left his signature bunny trail of jelly beans. From the boys’ bedroom, along the banister, down the stairs, through the dining room and the kitchen, to their baskets in the living room. Liam usually has the trail half-eaten by the time he reaches his basket; however, this year he asked, “What kind of jelly beans are these? They aren’t the usual Jelly Bellies.” After lunch, the magic was gone and I swept up the line of rainbow rabbit poo and tossed it away.
When we left for church that morning, the boys saw there were plastic Easter eggs dotted all over the backyard! That’s not the norm for the Bunny at our house. After church, they went out and collected the eggs. They brought their stash in and emptied the goodies into plastic bowls.
Liam grabbed a handful of his favorite candy, Skittles. With one chew, he pronounced them, “HARD!” Skittles. Lindt Milk Chocolate Truffles. Pink Hershey’s Kisses. Godiva Pearls. Indeed it looked like the Easter Bunny had forgotten to bring Easter candy to the Malcolm house.
In fact, it looked like he had foraged through a cupboard and dug out Halloween, Christmas, and Valentine’s Day candy. Then stuffed them in plastic eggs and planted them out in the yard. The Easter Bunny stopped by after 1:30 a.m.; that’s when I woke up and had a peek outside. There were no eggs out in the yard then. When I glanced out at 3:00 a.m., I could just barely make out the little blobs through my blurry-eyed gaze.
Yup, by the the looks of the candy that the Easter Bunny left, our house must’ve been his last stop. We got the dregs, but it’s the thought that counts. And now, thank goodness... we have the English Cadbury.