A Movable Feast

Easter. It is all about the candy.

I plan on eating lots of it this weekend.

...Cadbury Caramel Eggs...Cadbury Mini Eggs...Jellybeans...Peeps...Malted MilkEggs...Reese's Peanut Butter Eggs...Solid Milk Chocolate Easter Bunny...

{Sigh}

To be a kid again...and to not have to worry about those eggs going straight to my thighs.
To be a kid again...and have my basket of delight hidden for me to find.
To be a kid again...and put on my Easter dress that my grandma handstitched.
To be a kid again...and have my Dad make keilbasi for dinner.
To be a kid again...and smell sauerkraut and keilbasi stinking up the house.
To be a kid again...and trade and barter candies with my brother and sister.
To be a kid again...and eat my chocolate bunny in stages - ears first.
To be a kid again...and not have to worry about that bunny going right to my own cottontail.

A million and one people don't lie: "I'm getting older. My metabolism is not what it used to be." Yeah. Slowed Down Metabolism is a bitch.

So maybe I will just roam the Easter candy aisle instead and remember what that chocolate bunny tasted like. Because memory is still always sweeter than the candy will ever be.