How does the Easter Bunny get inside?
I don’t sit around thinking about this stuff, obviously, but, hey, my kid wants to know.
“I think he comes down the chimney,” I said to Tyler, my head buried in the paper.
“The chimney?” Jerry asked.
“Yeah, wouldn’t his fur get dirty?” Tyler asked.
I sighed. Laundry, dishes, work, smelly soccer cleats, unidentified goo on the carpet and now this.
To find the answer, I did what I always do. I Google.
Googling gets me into trouble. I usually end up at the doctor’s with an imaginary tumor or glaucoma.
But this time, I found my answer.
For six bucks, you can buy a Magic Easter Bunny key from a company in New Hampshire and leave it on the doorstep so the old boy can just let himself in. Well, you could buy it. It’s now sold out; apparently I’m not the only one dealing with inquiring minds.
Others have tried to write the ending of Easter Bunny legend, which originated in Germany in the 1600s. “The Easter Bunny apprenticed with a locksmith many centuries ago, learning how to pick locks using his teeth.” That is just downright creepy. The Easter Bunny has criminal tendencies.
WikiAnswers says: “It is almost certain that the Easter Bunny possesses whatever magical abilities enable him to pass through solid surfaces or go up and down chimneys, just like Santa Claus/Father Christmas does.”
HAH-HA! I was right! How dare they doubt me.
And he can deal with his own damn dirty fur.