Throwback Thursday: that time we met the Easter Bunny

A little late to the party, but inspired by Buzzfeed’s collection of terrifying Easter Bunny experiences post, I bring you the visit I was subjected to.  Fortunately, I have no memory of this occasion, but this much I know: in the spring of 1988, my parents and I went to visit my aunt, uncle and cousins, who were living in New Jersey at the time.  The trip involved many firsts for me, with particularly big ones being First Time Abroad and First Time Travelling Via Air.  I was apparently very good at being jetlagged (sorry, Mum and Dad!  Serves you right for taking your one-year old five timezones away!).

Anyway.  The visit took place around my birthday, and the internet reliably informs me that Easter Sunday in 1988 was on 3 April… so this photo would have been taken sometime in the week or two prior to that.

Presenting: myself (aged one, on the right), my cousin Jon (on the left, also aged one) and the (very, ahem, “relaxed” looking) Easter Bunny.

easter bunny kids 1988 cousin

My cousin certainly looks upset.  I thought I was perhaps smiling, but on further inspection, I think I look equally concerned.  What I realised upon considering the whole thing further is that this photo was taken when we were the age that Jon’s niece (my cousin’s daughter) is now!  Whilst Santa miraculously graces every shopping centre in the UK, the US custom of the Easter Bunny making himself available for photo opportunities doesn’t seem to have made it over here… yet.

Have a good weekend, everyone!  I’m off to console myself with a slab of seasonal chocolate.


2 thoughts on “Throwback Thursday: that time we met the Easter Bunny

  1. I’ve always though Santas, Easter Bunnies, clowns, and other people dressed in character were freaky. I remember being very afraid of Santa when I was little. And in college I had a run-in with Frankenstein. I’m not kidding–one of my most embarrassing moments. In fact, I should probably blog it because it was so weird. It took place on our senior class trip in Washington D.C. I’ve also frequently felt like people dressed in character gravitate toward me, and that’s unsettling. Like the bizarre “Ribbie and Rhubarb” which were the mascots of the Chicago White Sox baseball team. One of them grabbed me when I was at a game when I was a teenager. It smelled like body odor and was a giant bird-ish creature. I laughed along, but was not a fan of it thinking there was some creepy groper inside the costume.

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