And I still don’t know why Easter bunnies are hiding the eggs! I mean, they're not even theirs for god's sake! And why are they Pink? And is it just one bunny or is it an army of pink bunnies that kill people with their extreme cuteness?
This question ate up all my sleep and left me starving for dreams, so I just had to get to the bottom of this. So I became my own PPI (Personal Private Investigator). And the answers I got left me no less confused and sleepless.
I asked Mr. Galore Hoppity, who was a descendant of the hippityhoppitywampap group of bunnies. He told me that he remembers that they used to use the decorated eggs as a form of currency. He feels as if many generations ago the Easter Bunny was trying to hide some money from his wife so that she wouldn't keep buying fur coats... and that's how the tradition began.
Then I Googled and found some Bunnies who were underground. I traced their location, called them up and asked them to meet me at Starbucks. While we were sipping our cappuccino, I threatened to put them on a plane and send them to the North Pole and make them live with Santa. Scared that they would have to share a room with a giant man who kept saying "Hoe!Hoe! Hoe!" all night long, they spilled their guts out (that were now mixed with their coffees). They told me that their sole reason, back in the day (they were retired now), for hiding it was because they felt these were works of art. They used to hide it in safes and in banks. Now the new generation has it all messed up (I wonder where I have heard that cliche line before!), and now they just hide it in unsafe places where people just find them and eat them.
Another bunny who has given his /her statement (I just couldn’t tell which one!), on the condition of anonymity, confesses that long ago bunnies were a little dafter than they are now (I wonder how much worse they couldn’t be looking at how "smart" they are now). And one night, while a bunny was being rushed to the local nurse for a delivery because her water broke early... She went into serious labor near the Hen's house and while she gave birth almost immediately, under the coop, her screaming made the eggs roll out of the coop and near her new born. So when she looked at the new born, she saw the eggs and she thought that only one had hatched properly and the rest were still to be hatched. She believed that god had made her give eggs instead of babies directly. She was convicted of naivety because the fact was that this was her first delivery. Everyone believed her though (again the blame was put on the daftness of the community of the good ol' days). Weeks later the eggs wouldn't hatch and because she doted over them so much, and because she wanted them to look pretty when they went for Sunday mass, she painted and decorated them. Years passed by and they never hatched so her dying wish was that every year, the eggs must be hidden. My informer was in tears so I handed him/her my own personal hanky. If any of you find him/her, please do inform him/her that I need my hanky back.
Now after all the evidence of my findings was presented in court, and since the chickens are the ones who originally own the eggs, Old McChicken was brought in to testify. He was a really ancient leghorn and was too crooked to function. He used the drumstick of a former mate to walk. He told us that one day while he was doing his duties of servicing the hens and helping them in doing their primary jobs (of giving eggs), he heard the other chickens in a coop nearby scream and by the time he reached out there, the eggs were gone. He told us of a group of artists stole eggs and painted them for the sheer joy of doing it. He gave a description of them as being Pink and having long ears. He himself had testified at the trial but since the eggs were so well hidden, the artists walked free.
And there, the case was closed! And I will never know why they really did it.
I have lost everything now, my sleep, my precious hanky... For audit reasons, there were no expenses because I made the bunnies pay for the Starbucks and the rest of them came over to my house to discuss the matter. The court room is in the basement of my local grocery store, to which I walked myself on the required days.
Maybe I was never meant to know the secrets of the mysterious Pink Easter Bunnies...
My next mission is to uncover the truth... that Santa wears blue underpants from Calvin Klein instead of the red one that Mrs. Claus sewed for him. Mrs. Claus awaits me with cookies and milk.
Toodles!
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