One Easter morning, my brother and I shuffled out of our rooms and plopped down at the table in front of our awesome Easter baskets (my mom always made them awesome. Example: when I was a teenager, she put an N’SYNC photo book in my easter basket. So cool). My mom was making pancakes, a Sunday morning tradition, and my dad was nowhere to be found.

Anyways, while I’m taking inventory of the basket full of candy and Precious Moments colouring books, I hear a knock at the front door. I do my little girl run/shuffle over to open the door and somewhere in my brain I knew something exciting was about to happen. Because really, who would knock on your door Easter Sunday morning?  …The Easter Bunny, of course!

There was my dad , all six feet of a karate master and US Air Force officer, dressed up as a giant Easter bunny. I couldn’t see his face because he was in the bunny suit, but I just knew.

My dad (the Easter bunny) walked into the dining room and gave my mom her very own Easter basket. Inside this basket was a diamond ring.

And just like that, my mom got a diamond ring from the Easter bunny.

Pretty magical story, right? My memory of this event is vivid! Which is weird, because it never happened. What really happened was: we all got up and went to the dining room and my mom had an Easter basket with a diamond ring in it. There was no Easter bunny. zzzz….BORING!

This is a fun story because, obviously, my little girl imagination went back into my memory palace and embellished. As a little girl, I wouldn’t doubt that no more than 5 minutes after my mom got her ring I had already re-wrote the event and added my dad in a bunny suit.

We all like to laugh about the memories my brother and I have that never actually happened.  It’s a weird family thing that is a constant source of amusement.