This is a sponsored post - but it's more of a community service announcement
about how NOT to tell your kids about the Easter Bunny. You're welcome.
You know how you have those defining moments in your life that you can recall back in vivid detail like it was yesterday? Well the Easter of 1988 was one of those defining moments for me...
I don't have access to a squiggly fade and airy music, so you'll just have to picture that for yourself while I stare dreamily off in to space as is the norm for any flashback.
Picture a six year old (adorable) Glow waking on Easter morning full of excitement. There was no sluggish yawning and stretching like there is now, it was instantaneous waking and bolting to the lounge room in my truly, truly outrageous Gem jimjams to see if the Easter Bunny had been.
My eyes practically bulged out of my head at the sight of all the chocolate and the giant bites out of the carrot we'd left out for him. HE HAD BEEN!!! HE HAD BEEN!!!
Brightly coloured foil covered eggs in a basket, a chocolate rabbit and... oh my... a note!
I picked it up carefully and examined it the little card. A hand drawn carrot on the front and inside it read:
I love carrots! Yum!
Love The Easter Bunny"
My face sank, there was a problem... it was my mother's handwriting.
Instantly I became a sobbing mess as it dawned on me that if the Easter Bunny wasn't real, then maybe, just maybe, that fat bloke at Christmas wasn't real either.
I was devastated. Easter was ruined (well for five minutes before I was distracted with the chocolate).
Let my (fluffy bunny cotton)
Do not ruin Easter, find online codes here and learn from my mother's mistake.
|Nyeerrrr, what's up, Blog?|
How did you find out about the Easter Bunny? Or have I just ruined Easter for you with this post?