I was born old and rational. I can’t remember when, or if, I ever believed in the tooth fairy, the Easter Bunny, or Santa Claus (who sometimes posed as Kris Kringle for obscure reasons). I think my parents were aware of my being on to the ruse, but I acted out my expected role for the sake of maintaining family solidarity and for my younger sister who was deep into fairies. My reward was a chance at all the goodies.
I love jelly beans in all their wonderful varieties, especially the big ones with shells that crumble deliciously on my tongue. Chocolate was good, but not a top favorite. Soft, chewy sugar bunnies and chicks with a slight glaze on their surface were right up there, almost at jelly bean level. The same for sugar foam bananas.
I tried to get excited about coloring Easter eggs, but one was enough for me to eat. They took up too much room in my stomach, which room could otherwise be available for the sugary treats.
I thought searching for eggs and candies in backyard bushes or obscure places in the house was pretty stupid and a waste of time, but I went along with this too.
I was greedy with the jelly beans. I attempted to hoard them for later enjoyment, but I am addicted and just don’t have the discipline to keep them longer than 24 hours.
I liked having the relatives and other adults focused on me and my sister during the time the fairies were real for her.
It all faded when my sister had reached age nine and the family couldn’t maintain the fictions anymore.
I still look forward to those jelly beans at Easter time.