Sometime after learning about The Easter Bunny from my kindergarten classmates, I stood in my parents’ bedroom while my mom talked on the phone. “Yes, is The Easter Bunny there?” she asked, glancing down at me. “Monika here would like to speak with him.” She passed me the phone and I reached up towards the dresser to grab it.
I spoke with The Easter Bunny and asked him for a bag of blue M&Ms—yes, just the blue ones, please.
I think part of me was testing the magic. Blue wasn’t even my favorite color. If The Easter Bunny was able to follow through on my unusual request, wouldn’t that prove he was real? If a giant rabbit-man who evidently had unlimited access to all the candy in the world couldn’t come up with my treat, who could?
I got my bag of blue M&Ms. Pastel blue. I later found out that my sister sorted through an entire bag of Easter M&Ms and took out all the blue ones. And that? Is a different kind of magic.