With Easter quickly approaching, it’s that time of year again.
Recently, I have gotten some accusations that I am, in fact, a fraud. They say that there’s a conflict of interest in me delivering chocolate to every house because I sold my soul to the corporate market by allowing myself to be the poster-bunny for Hershey’s. The accusation being that I’m not scientifically possible. As of late, people have even criticized my performance, going as far as taunting me. You know how people leave carrots and cookies for Santa and his reindeer? A couple of wise-crackers left me Trix cereal. That stuff’s for kids. I’m a grown bunny. Maybe you could leave cat repellant or a couple more baskets. Nevertheless, I’m not a fraud, and I think I should be treated just as nicely as Santa and his reindeer, so let’s hop right to it.
Sure, last year was a tough year. I’m a bunny, we have our ups and downs; that’s how we move. There was about a foot of snow on the ground last time, and people requested afterwards that I should have just brought hot cocoa instead. They say hindsight is 20/20, but I don’t even have foresight. I only have peripheral vision. Did you know that I have to stand sideways when arguing with someone just so that we can see eye to eye?
So yes, I’ll admit it, I could have done a better job last year. But cut me some slack, it isn’t easy being the “Bunny.” Would you like to guess how many horrible houses I had to hide eggs in? To this day, I am still traumatized by this one house that had two pet hawks. No matter how well I sold the idea of a Twix or a Kit -Kat bar, I was the only thing they were willing to bite. And the crazy people. I can’t take the crazy people, like Elmer Fudd for example. Elmer Fudd moves to a different house every year, then sits and waits in his living room for me. Then there’s the people who try to take my foot and make it into a necklace for good luck. They got my great grandpa’s foot a couple of decades ago. I’ll tell you what, my great grandpa would have been much luckier if he had that foot while trying to hobble way from Elmer Fudd. And cats always lock their teeth into my feet. I hate that. I may be a magical creature, but I can’t just pull myself out of a cat.
I was also criticized for putting unhealthy chocolate into the eggs. Someone even suggested I put fruit, like apples, in the eggs instead. That would be great if I had an infinite amount of apples. Apples don’t grow on trees, you know. Just be thankful I fill every egg with chocolate. Maybe this year I’ll put out empty ones just to teach everyone not to count their chocolates before their eggs hatch. The rabbit pranks back. But I won’t, because I don’t want a bunch of hate mail like last year.
I am still recovering from this scathing letter I got from a family complaining that I forgot their house. There’s a good explanation for that. I was strolling through the woods when Yogi Bear stole my supplies. I apologize, you were the last home I had to visit. It was a life lesson learned. Now I’ll never put all of my eggs in one basket.
So, please take a leap of faith without jumping too far to a conclusion. I’m the Easter Bunny, I do exist and I’m not going anywhere anytime soon, except on Easter, to every house in the world. And even if I wanted to quit my day job, I couldn’t. I do all of my work at night; and I wouldn’t mind being rewarded here and there. Hopefully, your compassion will help you understand my struggles. And from this new understanding, I would really appreciate some signs of gratification…or at least a few fewer complaints.
Horgan is a member of
the class of 2017.
