Well, it was another holiday: time for some life form to come into my house during the night and leave me stuff. With this one, it was never explained how he got in the house. I never heard the word “chimney” used with Easter Bunny, so I figured maybe a window?

Since he had as many homes to cover as Santa, I couldn’t picture a plump little critter doing all that work. So I pictured a skinny dude with a rabbit head. I guess skinny after all that Lenten fasting.

One Easter Eve I remember waking up terrified that he was standing behind the curtain in front of one of my bedroom windows, not saying a word. No words are ever attributed to Easter Bunny. Without any equivalent to “Ho.Ho.Ho” he just lurks and gawks with no holiday greeting. My mom came in, swept the area with her hand, and came up empty. I swore I had seen what I would now recognize as a gaunt, alcoholic-looking guy with matted fur and long ears.

This is why I’m not happy with my across-the-street neighbor’s decoration. It’s basically a man with a rabbit’s face, right? And he keeps changing positions, like that ventriloquist’s dummy in the Twilight Zone.  He started out sitting in the middle of the bench. Then she started prissing over him, because, I realized after a few hours, he would slump forward like he was depressed. Now he looks like he’s thinking of ending it all with a jump. For a while, he assumed a lounge lizard pose along the bench. That was the creepiest. An alcoholic lounge lizard rabbit.

Too hung over to hide the baskets well. Wow, behind the chair. Don’t knock yourself out.

See you next year behind the curtain if you’re not in rehab.

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