Scour your distant memory for the details of last Saturday night, the eve of Easter. Perhaps there was excitement in your home, eager anticipation of the Easter Bunny (and, more to the point, great piles of molded sugar)?

There was excitement in ours. Blurring the lines between Easter and Christmas just a bit, the kids started writing notes to the rabbit.

And placing them hopefully in their baskets.

It was a major production. When candy is in play, you give it your best effort.

Alden was firing on all cylinders.

Perhaps it is that she has not yet gained a firm sense of proper use of tenses, but her tone strikes me as pretty darn cocky, as if the getting of candy is a foregone conclusion.

Augie on the other hand, was bewildered and uncertain, as if he could not grasp how some chicken scratch on a simple piece of paper could be transformed overnight into something he might eat.

Meanwhile, in the other room, I watched Duke beat Michigan State and Wisconsin beat Kentucky. If the Easter Bunny had something to do with it, he is my new favorite imaginary creature.

This morning, the kids woke to find their hopes realized.

The  bunny had come.

He had come for Alden and Kato, in any case. August could not find his basket. There was a moment that vaguely resembled discontent.

But a few clues pointed him in the right direction.

And happiness resumed.

Perhaps you have heard this bit of family lore, but long ago, Robbi’s mom (a young mother from Japan, new to the tradition of American Easter, and operating on the advice of a friend who suggested that Easter was about filling baskets with treats) went to the store and bought Robbi and her siblings each a jumbo bag of Doritos and placed them in their Easter baskets. That’s it. No chocolate. No candy. Nothing but a huge bag of chips.

Robbi and her siblings were delighted.

And so was Kato, with this slightly modified version of the original scheme. Kato got cheese puffs, but the bag was of (relatively) reasonable size.

Iggy, for all of her wishing, was left basketless, treatless, and without so much as a “Happy Easter.”

While Iggy ruminated on where it all went wrong for her, the kids headed out in search of even greater Easter fortune.

The fortune continued across the street a Uncle D and Annie’s house. Knowing that my appetite would be coming to the table, Annie made three quiches.

Kato was looking especially dapper, if I do say so myself.

Alden revived her Christmas hat with a smile.

For his part, August was sneaking a kiss in the sunlight. Charlotte is really coming into her own.

In a way, we have three kids, and in a way, we have four.

Rebuffed by his first choice for Easter sweetheart, August moved on, but found no true substance in his backup option.

But were we finished with Easter? We were not.

There were eggs to be found. On the president’s lawn.

Charlotte, who has recently learned to walk, was also in the hunt.

 

After filling his basket, August joined me for a game of frisbee. As much as he enjoys it, he struggled to grasp the concept of letting go.

Later in the afternoon, after the eggs had all been found and the chips and candy sampled, Alden got out her scissors and magic markers and took matters into her own hands.

Channeling her inner bunny, she re-hid all the eggs around the house for her little brothers to find. Over and over. When something good is in the offing, why let it go easily into the night?

Why not live it over and over, again and again and again?