Apr 13, 2017 3 min read

My daughter had a request for the Easter Bunny. It felt more like a warning.

“I don’t want the jelly bean candy,” she said. “Only chocolate, and not dark chocolate.” The directive was stern and emphatic.

While the kid does get points for planning ahead, her words struck me as selfish and out of touch. What else is the bunny supposed to plant in that plastic grass at the bottom of the baskets if not jelly beans? And since when is it acceptable to place an order?

“That’s up to the Easter Bunny,” I said, to which she rolled her eyes. She’s 17.

And she’s all wrong about the jelly beans. They’ve come a long way since I was a kid. Back then, jelly beans were fat and soft with a coating so thick it splintered like egg shells when you chewed them. The fruit-flavored ones were OK, but they were rare.

Nothing was as disappointing Easter morning as digging my fingers into the fake grass, unearthing a few beans, popping them into my mouth and finding they were the spice kind. The red ones were cinnamon, the black ones licorice, the green ones spearmint and the white ones were some nauseating mixture of all the other flavors. But the worst of all were the pink ones. They were wintergreen and tasted like Pepto Bismol.

Now, jelly beans are small and firm with thin skin and perfect fruit flavors. If the jelly beans in your basket are the size of baked beans or smaller, you can be sure they will not be spice. A good rule of thumb is this: if the beans are the size of grapes and come in huge bags and cost just pennies, stay away. They are probably spice. And if they’re not spice, they’re a too-sweet and bland version of fruity.

There are people who prefer the spice kind, and they are good to have as siblings and spouses, because they are the people who like the black licorice jelly beans. Growing up, we had a cousin who would eat only the black jelly beans. We would trade, and everybody was a winner. Without that swapping arrangement, the week after Easter would leave us with sad, picked-over baskets with licorice jelly beans rolling around under the grass. I’d never lose hope that this would be the time I’d dig in there and unearth a red or green one, but no.

As it happens, my kids are the right combination for these purposes. While my daughter hates the jelly beans and loves the chocolate, her brother is just the opposite.

“Everything chewy and fruity and sour,” he said when I asked. And then he named names: Skittles, Sour Patch Kids, Starburst, Airheads, chewy Spree – that whole row of the candy section that has all the color. He’s like I am – I wouldn’t cross the road for a piece of chocolate. But give me a bag of the real gummy bears and I won’t be able to stop myself.

This is the first time my children have stated their preferences. It turns out that for years, they’ve been letting the Easter Bunny do his thing and then trading for what they want. How did I miss that part of their childhood?

I guess I was busy, digging through the grass for the fruity ones.

Beth Dolinar can be reached at cootiej@aol.com.