"You know that's not normal, right?" said Allie of my childhood Easter stories.
No, but I would have guessed that.
Borrowing from American Indians, I would drink 10 glasses of water on Easter Eve. (It's a thing; look it up.) The purpose? Awakening earlier than my siblings. If I slept until a reasonable hour, I could be sure that all of the robin's eggs and Reese eggs in my basket would have been replaced by peeps and, god help me, black jelly beans. My good stuff would have migrated to my siblings' baskets, and their dregs to mine.
And so I got up at a ridiculous hour just to squirrel away my Reese eggs. Sometimes my sister Nadine had downed 15 glasses of water and I'd be too late, but usually I arrived in time to mount my defense. And then I would bite the ears off my four siblings' bunnies.
Just to send a message.