My favourite Easter tradition as a kid was waking up early to find eggs around our house.

As previously mentioned, we were a family deprived of refined sugars so any chance we might actually get to ingest some and forget the next twenty minutes of hyper-active tom-foolery was something we lost sleep over on an annual basis.

Was it cruel the candy wasn’t just handed to us? Are you kidding? The fact that we had to search for it only prolonged the excitement.

Except another part of our Easter tradition was not just finding colourful, candy eggs around the house, it was tip-toeing through colourful piles of neon dog vomit while we searched.

For some reason, the 70’s and 80’s Easter Bunny didn’t wrap his/her candies. They were made of some sort of caramelized marshmallow coloured coating with a chewy, white centre.

There is no doubt in my mind if I attempted to eat one of those eggs today, all of my teeth would either fall out or disintegrate within minutes but as a five year old, there was nothing better.

So we snuck around to the smell of Easter dog bile, careful not to confuse what we thought might be an edible egg with one the dog had found first, chewed and spit out.

I hope we can make similar memories for our kids.

It was a magical time.