Easter egg painting was an elaborate craft project when I was young. My mom would get those kits that had the paint and little holders to prop the finished egg upon to dry and display. We’ve got eggs here in Costa Rica, but no kits. And most eggs are brown, not refrigerated, born to pretty healthy chickens that aren’t crated and treated like a pile of rocks in a box. I’m digressing….back to the egg-bunny connection. The Easter Bunny - much like Santa Claus - are secondary figures due to the importance of the religious holiday the imaginary characters are based on.

So again - like most holidays - I adapt. My daughter Coco is crazy about holidays and I find myself between an egg and chocolate on which culture to follow; which tradition to carry on; and which mores to exude. When push comes to shove, I usually find a middle ground that gives the kids some sort of balance while growing up in a Catholic country. Halloween costumes are simple and made from scraps around the house; Christmas revolves mainly around a Charlie Brown-kind-of-tree, and Easter includes a hidden basket with Easter eggs we’ve decorated.

I found some white eggs at the store; boiled and cooled them; got out the magic markers. The kids had at it and 30 minutes later, we can check that off the list. So, the story in our house is that the Easter bunny comes sulking around at night (we don’t really address how he gets in); nibbles on some carrots we leave out; goes into our refrigerator; gets out those decorated eggs; places them in a basket with other treats; proceeds to hide the basket (for some unknown reason); hops off into the night.

Bliss. Bunny bliss.