April Fool’s

It’s what’s on the inside that counts

Jenny Harrington

--

Ewan delighted in scheming up pranks and finding tricks to play even from a hospital bed.

We’d been inside, inpatient for two weeks into treatment for Ewan’s refractory leukemia. Outside the world woke up to Spring. From the view through Forest Floor 7’s window, I saw rows of cherry blossoms in full bloom. Clocks sprung forward, and the days grew longer. But from inside the hermetically sealed windows, the cadence of every passing day was the same.

I latched onto any excuse to liven up our hospital-bound existence. Our dear friend Petra, our rock, brought in a tiny pack of Cadbury mini crème eggs for the first day of April. This Easter specialty item came in a twelve-pack. The chocolates were individually wrapped in blue, red, green, and yellow-colored aluminum foil with the Cadbury crème egg logo in prominent print. Each piece was no bigger than a quail’s egg. The chocolate eggs were cleverly packaged in a clear-lidded container. They sat perky and upright, nestled in a purple plastic rack. The overall presentation mimicked the appearance of a tiny bird’s eggs in a miniature egg crate.

In case you are not familiar with Cadbury eggs, normally, they are the size of a chicken egg. Nowadays, they are sold year round, but when I was little they were only available around the lenten season; they were the single most decadent and desired treat of my childhood. I remember eight-year-old me sitting crisscross applesauce in front of the television watching a commercial with a white rabbit bokking like a chicken. The rabbit laid an egg and hopped away. A voice-over said, “You are looking at a very unusual kind of egg from Cadbury that is only available ’til Easter. Its shell is pure, rich Cadbury rich chocolate. But look inside sits a sweet, creamy yolk surrounded by delicious white filling.”

Now, Petra planned to deliver a dozen tiny versions of my favorite chocolate. But these were not the usual milk chocolate treats with soft fondant-crème centers, and only Ewan and I were in on the secret. Petra had purchased the sweets in the Easter aisle of the grocery store. Once she got home, she lovely unwrapped each piece of chocolate and replaced the foil’s contents with a surprise. She smoothed out creases in the wrapping and returned each egg to its…

--

--

Jenny Harrington

Author, researcher, mother living on an island near Seattle. Now, notably, an international bunny smuggler. Find her struggles and snuggles at www.teamewan.com