… but enough about me

The Easter Bunny came early to our house this year. A couple of weeks ago FedEx delivered a mysterious package to our house. In the box was an inviting bundle of mylar bubble wrap, shredded paper, packing tape and a card in a sealed envelope. I set aside the card (You only open the card first if someone is looking!) and dug through the packaging to find a melted ice pack and a plastic bag containing two chocolate bunnies.

The bunnies had bright little blue eyes and wore green chocolate overalls. They came packed with some jelly beans and a few foil-wrapped chocolate eggs.

I opened the card — “Happy Easter, Jeff and Eric!” — but there was no sender. Luckily my mom solved the case for me later that day when she left me a voice mail to ask if I received them.

Before I returned her call, I looked up the website of the chocolatier she ordered them from, Gayle’s Chocolates. I didn’t see a pair of bunnies in green overalls, but I did find a similar item: Mr. and Mrs. Bunny, a boy bunny in green, and a girl bunny in a rather silly looking pink and purple cape. Secretly I was glad, because the boy bunny was much cuter than the girl bunny. (But then again, of course I would say that.)

And then I spotted the disclaimer: “Alternative lifestyle bunnies are also available as Mr & Mr Bunny or Mrs & Mrs Bunny.”

Even though I cringed a bit at the phrase “alternative lifestyle,” whether it applied to the confections or to me, the effect was completely charming. My mom sought out gay chocolate bunnies online to send them to me and my husband! Is anyone else’s mom better than mine? I don’t think so.

I kept them in their wrapper and put them in a position of prominence in our nicest Easter basket. They still stare at me serenely through the clear plastic, daring me to bite off their cute, handcrafted ears. But their having come from my mother has effectively granted them a stay of execution, because I don’t think I could ever eat them.