“Imagination is the highest kite one can fly.#”

- Lauren Bacall

I'm a little jacked up today, my friends, because I've just finished polishing off several Cadbury eggs, a few dozen Peeps, and�half a chocolate bunny.

At the moment, I am finding that while America might run on Dunkin, me, I'm fueled by copious amounts of pure sugar, so, before I forget, Happy Easter.

I don't want to put a downer on your festivities, but I've always been a bit conflicted over this particular holiday. Don't get me wrong, I'm a huge fan of ham and free candy, but when I was a kid this holiday had always held a bit of fear for me all stemming from the same source: the Easter bunny.

I must have been about 4 years old. My brothers and I had piled into our family's station wagon and we were told that we'd be off to meet the Easter bunny. I was picturing in my head a petting zoo and perhaps playing with a cute little rabbit, feeding it some lettuce or a carrot or two. But, as soon as we got to the mall, that dream was shattered. What stood in front of me was no cute bunny but an 8 foot rabbit with huge teeth and big eyes, waving right at me.

I don't know if I was potty trained at that point, but I can tell you, I was definitely soiled. Then, to top things off, my folks wanted me to go and sit on its lap to get my picture taken. To say I was terrified would be putting it nicely. You see, although I might have been young I still knew that that bunny was sitting in the same chair that Santa Claus uses during Christmas and Santa was nowhere to be found. So, from the way I saw it, if this thing could take out St. Nick, what chance did I have? No wonder I was always crying in the photo!

My only solace was the decorating. I'd be allowed to take an egg and dip it into a cup of vinegar and dye until it looked like something that came from a psychedelic chicken. But then, just for fun, I would be told that the Easter bunny (remember him?) had hidden it in the back yard and I'd have to go looking for it.

So there I was walking around the house looking for an egg taken by some bunny bandito and, to add insult to injury, I'd be doing all this in a sweater vest and a clip-on tie.

Oh, yes, the outfit! Nothing says Easter more than a sweater without sleeves and a tie that can be pulled off without loosening the knot; just the thing to be wearing when going up against a fluffy giant.

But, I'm happy to report that I found my egg and made it back in one piece which is more than I can say for that chocolate rabbit in my basket. What can I say?

Revenge is sweet.

Auburn native Bradley Molloy's column appears here,

each Sunday, in The Citizen.

He can be reached at lovonian@hotmail.com