Today is a bit bleak and a little chilly. The Easter Bunny better bundle up tonight to make his rounds. I’m imagining the Bunny wearing a warm jacket, wool socks on his feet and matching mittens on his hands. In keeping with the season, he’ll also be wearing a brightly colored bow tie. It is, after all, spring.

When I was a kid, we always took baths on Saturdays. When I was older and into multiple baths each week, I wondered why only one bath a week back then. We were kids, we got dirty playing outside. Washing hands and faces couldn’t have been enough. I’m thinking we had a layer of dirt the other five days, not six because on Sunday we started out clean.

I always thought we were lucky Easter was on a Sunday. I was young. I believed in the Easter Bunny. What did I know of lent and the liturgy? I figured we were lucky because we only had to take the one bath which served two purposes, our Saturday night ritual and getting clean for Easter.

We never hounded my mother about letting us go to bed early on Easter Eve the way we did on Christmas Eve. The Easter Bunny seldom brought surprises. We knew we’d find a few small toys, maybe a coloring book and crayons and a stuffed animal, mostly a rabbit. There was always a giant chocolate rabbit. I remember once I bit into my rabbit and found it was hollow. It was a mere shell. I complained to my mother about the rabbit being a bit deceptive. She agreed.

All the jelly beans except the black ones tasted the same to me. That’s probably why black jelly beans are still a favorite of mine. I don’t like black licorice so it is a bit of puzzle why I like the black jelly beans. I think they must be most people’s favorite because now you can buy a package of just black ones. I remember looking at my tongue in the mirror after I ate the black jelly beans. My whole tongue was black. I thought it was kind of neat.

When I was a kid, my mother had a way to make us tell the truth. It had nothing to do with morality. She’d ask us if we had done whatever like breaking a dish or a glass and all four of us would say no. My mother would say it must have been the ghost. We’d all nod in agreement and hoped it ended it there. It didn’t. The test was next. My mother told us our tongues turned black when we told a lie. We’d check in the mirror, but she also had that covered. Only mothers can see the back tongue she told us. She’d then ask each of us in turn to show her our tongues. The guilty party wouldn’t. He’d put his hand over his mouth so my mother couldn’t see. Nabbed! I don’t remember how long that worked, but it was a wonder. My mother always found the guilty party. I thought she was amazing.