Which came first? The rabbit or the egg? Who cares? Certainly not the rabid children stepping over one another, loading their satchels with as many multi-colored pastel eggs as they could find. Hidden behind bushes, in ceramic flower pots, under the creaky wooden stairs, tucked in the antique bird fountain, where blue jays too scared to bathe, look on bewildered, from the safety of their trees. Because today all anyone cares about are giant bunny rabbits born from milk chocolate.
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