I have many happy memories of Easter as a child. We often spent it with my grandparents who lived about 80 miles from our town. We would make the trip to their house usually on Friday or Saturday and wake up at there on Easter morning.
My grandmother made the whole bunny thing kind of fun for a kid. This exonerated her from the traditionally-given over sized chocolate covered fruit and cream filled egg she ALWAYS gave my brothers and me.
As soon as I arose and began looking for the Easter basket the bunny had left somewhere around her house, on one of her porches was the likely place, unless it was an unusually cool morning, and then he somehow made his way inside to hide it where we would be warm and cozy (thoughtful bunny, that he or she was), my grandma would always tell me that I just missed him. That she just saw him hopping down the road to the other Laurie Jo’s house, and that if I hurried to the door where she stood looking out, I might see him too. Such sweet memories of my grandma.
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