Growing up, my family never really celebrated Easter with me. I think I've gone Easter egg hunting once in my entire life, and it was essentially to just babysit my little cousins. If I recall correctly, I was about 14 years old, surrounded by 5 and 6 year olds. Of course I didn't take all to eggs (that would just be too unfair), but I did walk away with a good big purse full of chocolates. Now that I'm an adult (lol), I wanted to delve into these hidden ignored emotions. That one pitiful East egg hunt did not make up for my lack of Easter-love as a child.

I've come to realize I'm pretty nifty with these little cereal pieces. Remember last Christmas I sculpted an impeccable Holiday House, which was unfortunately destroyed the NY blizzard of '09 (RIP Holiday House).




Okay, so I cheated a little. I used canned vanilla frosting and mixed them into ramekins with food dye. I figured I wasn't going to be eating my little bunnies, so there was no use to whip up a batch of some bangin' homemade frosting.


Decorating was a lot harder than anticipated. I may be a master in the kitchen (har, har), but I'm pretty inept and decorating crudely-shaped bunnies.




The ear of my bunny was too heavy to support its own weight with all that disgusting frosting, hence the breakage. And that obscure pink mishmash to the right would be my boyfriend's stocky-horned concept of a bunny.




Easter-fail.



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