It’s interesting that our culture has developed a tradition where we deliberately tell stories to kids we want them to believe, knowing there will come a time that we have to tell them it was just a story? I hear my atheist friends snorting a bit, but this is still different; the Easter Bunny story is generally told by people who don’t believe it themselves, but want their listeners to. Dad says his mother didn’t think it was fair to the people who actually bought the presents and baskets of candy not to get credit for them. I guess then the bunnie assistants become the key element of the story. Seems like finding out the truth in that situation wouldn’t be too traumatic. My sister and I were trying to recall if we ever believed in the Easter Bunny, we think we did briefly, in a sort of absent-minded way, enough so that finding out the truth came with no pain. At least neither of us can recall ever being upset by the facts, and since she is a couple of years younger she would have at least remembered if I spilled the beans. Santa, the Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny, have there always been imaginary creatures we wanted kids to believe in, with the understanding that finding out the truth was a right of passage? Some sort of initiation ceremony? There have been fairies, gnomes, ghosts, poltergeists and other mythical beasties that both adults and children believed in, but that’s not the same dynamic at all is It?