If there’s one holiday I have virtually no memories of, it’s Easter. Despite being Roman Catholic, it’s a day where I only recall two things: looking for plastic eggs that had money in them (thanks, Grandpa!) and coloring eggs. I thoroughly enjoyed both, but I preferred the former because money meant I could buy toys from vending machines. I was a simple child who has grown into a not-so-simple man.
As for coloring eggs, I enjoyed that, too. It was fun sitting around dipping them into paint and whatnot. Then again, hanging out with my family was always great. It’s too bad the younger me couldn’t appreciate that as much.
Despite those memories, I have no recollection of ever believing in the Easter Bunny. While I’m sure I did, I never thought about him the same way I did Santa Claus or even the Headless Horseman.
Instead, I viewed him as a sign that I should try to pester my mom into buying me a chocolate bunny. I’d say that I would eat it, but I never did because I’m not much of a chocolate person. I think my sister did, though. I can’t remember.
Funnily enough, I think I was later gifted a novelty-sized chocolate bunny. I took one look at it and felt sick. I have no idea if anyone ever finished it. If they did, I pity their stomach.
Anyway, enough background on my. The point I’m making is that my history with Easter isn’t exactly special or fantastical. It’s relatively mundane and par for the course when it comes to a middle-American guy who grew up in a state that would tax breathing if it could.
However, I attribute that monotony to my immediate interest in today’s Decemystery entry. Sure, the title alone is eye-catching, but I’ve always had a fascination with holiday-themed mysteries. They have a little bit of extra flavor that makes them more appealing.
And in the case of today’s story—which I call An Encounter with the Easter Bunny—it has enough flavor to last a lifetime. The idea of meeting a holiday mascot is something I’ve entertained covering before; I’ve come across reports from people who claim they’ve met Santa. However, I’d rather save those stories for a year when I’m actively writing from the start of it and not the middle of the summer.
Still, this sounds like a whimsical time. So, come along; let’s go Easter Egg hunting. I call dibs on the eggs that have money!
A Little Holiday Cheer
Once more, our story comes to us from About, having been submitted in May of 2005 by Jeff Laban as “Saw the Easter Bunny.” This is the first time that someone bothered to include their surname—at least in terms of the cases I’ve covered from the site. That said, I didn’t make an effort to reach out to Mr. Laban because, as it turns out, there are a lot of people named “Jeff Laban.”
Also, please don’t go emailing or messaging everyone asking if they submitted this story. It’s been close to two decades since Jeff sent this in. I’d be surprised if he remembered the story by now, especially as he’s gotten older.
Anyway, Jeff’s story took place a few days after Easter. At the time, he was in sixth grade (which would make him between the ages of 11 and 12). When the story was submitted, Jeff was a senior in high school, so he was around 18. This (along with something else later) leads me to suspect the story occurred in North America, so I’ve tagged it as such. American defaultism? Never heard of her!
On this fateful day, Jeff was chatting with his best friend’s mother, Mrs. Sohler—who I’ll refer to as Valerie from here on out. For the sake of having a mental image, I’ll pretend that the two were talking near a quaint little house on a bright, sunny day; it’s something straight out of a Bob Ross painting.
Also, while it may be a bit redundant, I once more feel obligated to say: please, don’t go looking for anyone with that surname and randomly ask them about this story. Let’s respect people’s privacy unless they explicitly request help. Neither Jeff nor Valerie asked for it, so don’t go playing detective.
Anyway, as the two conversed, Valerie asked Jeff “if the Easter Bunny had been grateful.” This bit left me legitimately confused because I had no idea what she meant. In my time growing up, I never remember the Easter Bunny doing anything outside of leaving eggs for children to find on Easter morning.
But, as it turns out, there are practices involving leaving carrots out for the Easter Bunny to nibble on, just like how kids leave milk and cookies for Santa. This leads me to suspect that the reason I never got fatter stacks of cash from the Easter Bunny is because I’d eat the carrots. I love them; they taste amazing. That’s my carrot, you accursed bunny—and those are my eggs, too!
That little history lesson aside, Jeff responded by laughing and saying that, yes, his parents had bought him a chocolate rabbit. If these details and paragraphs feel remarkably shallow, that’s because Jeff’s report lacks a great amount of detail. Thankfully, when we get to the theories, I’ll be able to take the wheel and cram in as much as I feel like to amend for the rations that make up Jeff’s story.
Anyway, Jeff’s denial of the Easter Bunny’s existence didn’t cause Valerie to falter. In fact, it led her to ask the question again; he specified that she meant the “real Easter Bunny.” She then asked the following question:
You do believe in the Easter Bunny, don’t you?
Well, Valerie, I—the owner and writer of this blog—would like to inform you that I have seen rabbits in real life. However, none of them have bestowed upon me a colorful egg. So, I’m inclined to doubt his existence. If he is real, though, I’m punching him in the face and taking his carrots.
On a more serious note, I want to remind everyone reading this that I did not make this story up and that this is a supposedly serious case. It was submitted to a now-defunct website that has countless more mysteries available for you to read, thanks to the Internet Archive. Keep that in mind as you read the rest of this write-up.
Getting back on track, Jeff dismissed Valerie’s question, responding that his belief in the Easter Bunny “went away with Santa.”
Santa believers are in absolute shambles right now. I just know it.
It’s here where I wish I could’ve seen the look on Jeff’s face. According to him, Valerie told him that she “saw the Easter Bunny” when she was four years old and “living on her farm.” While we don’t know how old Valerie is, we can safely assume that this took place at some point in the 20th century.
Valerie said that she was “living on her farm” when a pink rabbit “hopped through [her] window.” It “walked on two legs” and dropped an Easter basket before leaving. I wish Valerie had specified how tall this rabbit was, but I digress. We’ll get into this a lot more in the theories.
The farm where this sighting took place was quite desolate, being around 12 miles (or 19.3 kilometers for my metric readers) from the next closest farm. Additionally, Valerie doubted her parents would’ve “done anything like that” and that “even a kid can tell the difference between the real thing and a costume.” Keep the part about the costume in mind because it raises a question so large it may as well serve as a staircase to Heaven.
Valerie’s account, unsurprisingly, left Jeff befuddled to the point that I think his cognitive abilities were somewhere deep within the Oort Cloud. Once they were returned to him by some benevolent extraterrestrials, Jeff was able to regain his composure. At least, I’m guessing he did; he said it “was shocking to hear” and that it “opened [his] mind a bit.”
Jeff ended his report by wondering if it’s there possibly is, or was, an Easter Bunny. Typing those words has left me feeling like I need to do some soul-searching because, wow, that felt surreal.
As abrupt as it may seem, that’s where the story ends. I know of no additional Easter Bunny sightings, though I’m sure there are some out there, be they on 4chan or featured in a clickbait YouTube video about totally legitimate sightings that are in no way, shape, or form as believable as The Brooklyn Subway Vampire Girl.
That said, while the story itself may be short, there are a lot of theories for us to go over—and there are quite a few questions I desperately want to ask. So, let’s not waste any more time and get to speculating on just what in the world Valerie may have seen that fateful day.
Theories
1. A burglar/someone in a costume
Yep, that’s right. The first theory is that this was a burglar—or someone in a costume. Why do I think that? Well, let’s look back at the story. Pretend that there’s a fancy transitional effect here, bringing us back to an earlier part of the write-up.
According to Valerie, the so-called “Easter Bunny” stood on two legs. Okay, that’s nothing remarkable, right? The Easter Bunny is typically portrayed as standing upright. Granted, that’s something rabbits can do; it’s known as “periscoping,” and it’s done for a few reasons. Getting a better view of an area and reaching for something are two examples worth noting.
In the Easter Bunny’s case, though, he typically carries around a basket of eggs. At least, that’s the version I recall as a child. Some depict him with a sack of eggs, while others are more magical. Really, it depends on who’s telling the story.
Because of that, it sounds like this was a bunny. However, I want to draw your attention to two other details that Valerie allegedly provided. She also said her parents wouldn’t do anything like what the bunny did, and she knew it wasn’t a costume.
Those are the two things I want to focus on because they raise a very unsettling question: How tall was this “rabbit”?
When I first envisioned Valerie’s encounter, I imagined a slightly larger-than-average rabbit with a basket. However, if Valerie’s bringing up her parents and how it didn’t resemble a costume, I’m left wondering if this was a human-sized rabbit.
If that’s the case, there is no conceivable way this was a rabbit. They don’t grow to be the size of full-grown humans. Well, not unless you believe the reports of giant rabbits, but I’ll hopefully get to those next year.
That brings us to the first theory properly. This was someone in a bunny costume who broke into Valerie’s house. Why? Boy, that’s the million-dollar question! But before I get into speculating on a motive, I want to address one thing: Why I don’t think this was Valerie’s parents.
While you can definitely argue that this was one of them, I’d question why neither would have ever confessed to doing it. I also don’t understand why they’d do something purportedly out of character one year and never do it again. I also don’t understand how Valerie wouldn’t be able to connect the dots years later should one (or both) of her parents have been home at the time of the sighting.
You could make the argument that it was an extended family member, but I doubt Valerie would’ve failed to mention that. Also, once more, I fail to see how she wouldn’t have been able to connect the dots. Then again, her memory could’ve been failing her; we don’t know how long ago the incident occurred prior to her telling Jeff.
Anyway, let’s get back to what the motive may have been. Well, there are a multitude of possibilities. Most of them are unsettling, while some are downright confusing.
It’s possible the person in question was less of a burglar and more of a prankster and wanted to mess with Valerie. This can be seen because they didn’t take anything. They “hopped” through the window, left a basket, and left. Burglars are, of course, not known for leaving behind gifts, though I suppose there could be exceptions throughout history.
That said, if this were the case, it’s possible it was a family friend. However, that—yet again—begs the question of why they never told her at a later point. Unless they forgot they’d done it (which sounds highly unlikely since this would’ve required a lot of preparation and effort to pull off), I don’t buy it.
Another potential culprit could be someone who was taking the concept of “holiday cheer” a few dozen steps too far and wanted to give Valerie something. As baffling as this may sound, there are people out there who pull off some of the most brazen acts of kindness imaginable. So, it’s possible this would’ve been the equivalent of a Secret Santa, but for Easter. What would that be called? A Secret Easter Bunny? Yeah, let’s go with that.
With all of that said, there are a lot of issues with this theory. I’ve already gone over most of them, but there are two I want to single out.
The first is that we don’t know for certain if the Easter Bunny was human-sized. That was based on my interpretation of how it was worded in the report. To me, it sounded like she suspected her parents at some point. If that’s the case, I doubt both of them are between 7 and 9 inches (17.8 and 22.9 centimeters) tall.
Regardless, I only have my assumption to work with when it comes to the supposed Easter Bunny’s height. So, without any concrete evidence to work with, I’m hesitant to commit to the idea.
That said, if it was human-sized, then Valerie’s claim that it hopped through her window is highly odd. While it’s not impossible to leap through a window (I’m sure a gymnast could achieve it), we don’t know if the house Valerie lived in was one story or two stories tall. If it was the latter, then I can’t see someone jumping that high without using something to vault up.
There’s also the matter of if the window was open or not. If it weren’t, the person’s costume would’ve been shredded. Contrary to what entertainment media shows you, jumping through glass doesn’t leave you unharmed. In fact, it’s highly dangerous and will result in severe lacerations.
If the window was open, then the question of how large it was comes into play. While some may see this as nitpicking, I want you to look at the nearest window as you’re reading this. Imagine it being wide open; if there’s a screen attached, just imagine it was gone. Now imagine someone in a bunny costume trying to jump through it. Logistics are important, especially when it comes to figuring out if a theory is worthwhile or not.
Also, one has to wonder how they got down afterward, but I suppose they could’ve slowly climbed out. If they jumped, then I’m almost certain they would’ve broken a bone. Depending on the way you land, you could severely fracture your skull and die from a brain bleed. You could also shatter bones in your feet and legs.
My point is that it’s a terrible idea, and there’s no positive outcome.
Okay, let’s move on; I don’t want to linger on something morbid. The second issue is that it doesn’t sound like Valerie ever told her parents, nor does it sound like they were fazed by their 4-year-old daughter having an Easter basket that neither of them gave her.
Call me crazy, but if my daughter had something that I didn’t give her, I’d ask my wife, “Hey, did you get our daughter something from the store?” If she responded with “no,” I’d be concerned about who gave my child a gift!
Of course, there’s a chance that Valerie’s parents were aggressively lax. It’s also possible that this hints at them being behind the whole incident, too. Both are possible, but I still think it’s odd for her parents to do something out of character without ever repeating it. I know that some people make one-time exceptions, but there are many parents who go to great lengths to make their kid’s childhood something memorable. To do this only once would be odd.
A part of me wishes Valerie had told us what was in the basket; I’d love to know if it was filled with chocolate, toys, eggs, or something else. If she did that, we’d have a better idea of what the person’s intent was. Unfortunately, with no information, it’s a dead end. What a pity.
I could sit here for a while longer and pick apart what does and doesn’t work about this theory, but I think you get the idea. While there are some things that I firmly believe point toward this being someone in a costume—be they a burglar or not—there are also flaws that can’t be swept under the rug.
I leave it up to you to decide if the inaugural theory is one worth considering; I, personally, am quite open to it. However, there are still seven for us to go over, and it’s time to dive into the most whimsical and fun of them all. Grab an Easter basket, dear reader; it’s time to go egg hunting!
2. It was the Easter Bunny
I found an egg! It’s filled with more time constraints; I love racing against time!
This is, without a doubt, one of the most surreal theories I’ve ever covered. I’m trying my best to maintain a sense of level-headedness as I type this because the thought of writing, “Let’s discuss the possibility that it was the Easter Bunny,” sounds more akin to satire.
Yet, as I said earlier, this is a story that was submitted to a website from which I’ve covered numerous stories. This is not something I made up or picked from a highly dubious or fringe website that’s known to actively make up stuff (though you can argue that people submitted fake stories, but that’s beside the point). This is, for all intents and purposes, serious.
I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: I love my work.
Anyway, let me preface this by saying one thing: While the Easter Bunny is associated with the Christian holiday of, well, Easter, the icon itself has nothing to do with the holiday in terms of the religion itself. In fact, I’m barely familiar with the origins of the bunny. Luckily, they’re unimportant—and neither is the religious angle.
My point is that if you were worried you’d be getting a theology lesson from yours truly, don’t fret. Your Sunday service did not fall on the Thursday this was posted.
So, what does this theory have going for it? Well, that’s complicated. As I said in the intro, there are reports of people who claim they’ve seen Santa Claus; if you want to read them, the Paranormal World wiki (which I’ve visited many times to find stories; it’s an absolutely great resource if you’re into the Fortean) has a slew of them.
I won’t go over these reports because there are a ton of them, and they demand their own write-up—or mega write-up, rather. However, I’ll offer a summary of a shorter one so you at least understand why I’m correlating Valerie’s story to them.
The final story on the wiki is called “I Want a UFO for Christmas,” which sounds like a fantastic title for a sci-fi parody of Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas is You.” It was submitted by a woman named Jade, who was seven when the incident occurred (which was in 2003).
According to Jade, it was midnight on Christmas Eve. Being a child, she was too excited to go to sleep because presents were calling her name. That, or it was her parent’s credit card providers banging on the door so they could wring money out of some wallets. Either one works.
As Jade lay in bed, a “dazzlingly bright” red light shined down. This was followed by a “small object” that Jade wasn’t familiar with. That would be confusing enough, but things got even weirder when Jade realized that the object wasn’t making any noise. Not at first, anyway.
After a bit, Jade was alerted to “the sound of bells and hooves” on the house’s roof. Somehow, this didn’t awaken her parents, but I’ll assume they’re deep sleepers.
If you’re wondering, nobody came down the chimney. If anyone did, they were stealthy about it, which leads me to suspect that Santa Claus had been reading up on Sam Fisher’s tactics. Regardless, the red light “soon disappeared,” but the noises on the roof “remained behind for a few minutes.” I’m guessing Rudolph got loose and ran off into the night, thoroughly fed up with Santa’s lack of healthcare coverage.
Overall, it’s a very intriguing story; I think it’s more than worth connecting with Valerie’s experience in the sense that a child experienced something unusual that’s directly related to a holiday mascot. I understand if you disagree, though.
The rest of the stories on the page range from whimsical to an encounter with a rather malicious being that resembled Santa Claus. It’s a weirdly diverse collection of stories, but I’m sure that some of you are wondering why I’m drawing a parallel between what amounts to a UFO sighting and today’s case, which is clearly something a lot more enigmatic.
The reason is that it sets a precedent for a sighting of a holiday icon. Whether you want to argue that it’s psychological in nature (more on that later) or something more Fortean is entirely up to you. For me, the point is rooted strictly in the idea that seeing someone—or something—that is purely cultural has an inexplicable precedent, and it can be corporeal or incorporeal in nature.
As a result, the idea of seeing the Easter Bunny, while absurd on paper, somehow has ground to stand upon. The fact I can type that without it being a meme theory is unfathomable to me, but here we are. I can do it with a straight face. By God, I think a part of my brain just broke down.
One trip to the brain doctor later, and it’s safe to move on. With all of that now in mind, I can believe that everything I’ve said amounts to somewhat of an argument in the theory’s favor.
The keyword there is “somewhat.”
Let me make one thing clear: Valerie said this happened to her when she was four. Presumably, Jeff had the conversation with her in 1999 (if he were 18 in 2005, he would’ve been 12 in ‘99).
Should Jeff and his best friend (let’s call him Tanner) be the same age, they would’ve been born in 1987. If Valerie had Tanner at, say, 25, she would’ve been born in 1962. That puts her encounter with the Easter Bunny in 1966. That’s 33 years prior—far more than enough time for her memory to have become aggressively unreliable.
I’ve discussed this in previous write-ups a lot, so I don’t want to linger on it for long. What I will say is that if 33 years had passed since Valerie saw the Easter Bunny, taking her word at face value is a callous thing to do. While there may be precedent for enigmatic sightings like this, that doesn’t immediately mean it’s the truth.
On top of that, there’s also the matter of how old Valerie was when she saw the Easter Bunny. Children aren’t the most reliable eyewitnesses—at least, not all the time. Their word isn’t without merit (in fact, they can make for very credible eyewitnesses to crimes), but it’s also easy for a child to greatly exaggerate things. After all, their imagination is a wondrous thing.
As an anecdote, I’ve said in the past that a kid can turn anything into the most amazing thing ever. I distinctly recall pretending that empty towel rolls were swords. In my mind, they were the real deal, and I was some sort of master swordsman. The same goes for any stick that I found. I was the coolest knight in the world.
That whimsy has since faded, and I now get paranoid that an insect or some other creepy crawler is nearby. If it wasn’t for how difficult my childhood was in terms of health, I’d almost miss it.
Anyway, while children may be decent eyewitnesses to some degree, I still think it’s hard to overlook how much time had passed in Valerie’s case. I’m 28, and while I can remember some things very innocuous things from 23 years ago, I’ve also undoubtedly forgotten a lot of memorable events for one reason or another.
I can’t imagine an experience like this would leave someone’s mind. If I had seen a pink, upright rabbit with a basket as a child, I sure as heck would have remembered it decades later. Would it be crystal clear? I doubt it, but I know I’d be able to recount it if I was asked about it.
Regardless, it’s possible Valerie’s sighting started out as something innocuous—like a bunny having climbed onto something visible from a nearby window (like a table). Then, as the years went on, the memory became muddled, and Valerie recalled it as the Easter Bunny delivering her an Easter basket. This would help to explain why the memory was relatively clear: It was a false memory instead of an actual one.
That said, I don’t want to linger on the topic of Valerie’s memory for too long. After all, I’ve gone over the topic many times this month, and there’s a theory later on that’ll offer a much better opportunity for me to discuss it. So, for now, I’d like to discuss a different flaw. Namely, the idea that it jumped through her window.
Now, I know that I went over the logistical issues in the prior theory. However, I’d like to add some more since this theory is about it being the Easter Bunny and now somebody in a costume—two drastically different things. So, I promise that this won’t be a case of me repeating myself.
For the sake of argument, let’s pretend the Easter Bunny was the same height as a regular rabbit. We’ll also assume that it can hop the same height as a regular rabbit: 2 to 4 feet (60 to 121 centimeters). By comparison, the average domesticated house cat can jump 4.9 to 5.9 feet (149 to 179 centimeters). However, some can jump as high as 8 feet (that’s a whopping 243 centimeters).
What I’m getting at is that rabbits, while known for hopping around, aren’t the animal kingdom’s greatest jumpers. However, that doesn’t mean they can’t leap up to a window. The average window sill is roughly 2 feet off the ground; if there was enough room, the bunny could’ve hopped up there. If this were the case, it’d lend even more credence to Valerie misremembering the entire thing, but I digress.
Of course, this assumes that Valerie’s home was one story tall. If it were two stories tall, the window would’ve been roughly 18 feet (5.4 meters) off the ground. If this happened to be the case, I think the only way a rabbit would get up there is if you launched it. In that case, it would be dead—and you’d be a psychopath.
While that may seem like a morbid digression, that’s actually something I want to address. Once again, entertainment media doesn’t depict glass in a realistic manner. Yes, you can break it, but glass is durable. It’s designed to be that way. Why? Well, if it weren’t, picking up a pebble and tossing it at someone’s bedroom window would result in the window being shattered.
Therein lies the issue with this idea. If the Easter Bunny had leaped through a closed window, it would not only need to survive being lacerated, but it’d also need enough force to get through it. A human can feasibly do that (though it’d be very difficult if I’m not mistaken; it’s easier to use a blunt instrument to shatter a window). A little ol’ bunny, on the other hand, would require being launched.
In short, If Valerie’s window were closed, the Easter Bunny would’ve required a catapult from ACME to get through it. Because of that, the logistical angle of the Easter Bunny hopping in through the window without access to cartoon-level plot armor throws a massive wrench in this theory.
With all of that said, I’d just like to say that I love the idea of the Easter Bunny jumping through a window like he’s Jason Bourne. That would explain how it survived getting in and out of the house; the last time I saw those movies, Bourne could survive practically anything.
Now, I know that I’ve lingered on this theory for a long time, but I want to touch upon one final issue with it. It’s something I outright ignored in the previous theory, and I did so on purpose because I felt it was much better suited for discussing it here.
That issue is how we don’t know why Valerie was adamant about it not being a costume.
While this may seem like something going in the story’s favor, I think it’s actually to its detriment. Why? Well, let me ask you this: If I were to claim that I saw a Dogman and insisted that it wasn’t someone in a costume or ghillie suit but didn’t say why, what would you think? I’m going to guess you’d be skeptical of my assertion.
Of course, there’s a chance you might believe me. Everyone is different, but when it comes to something like this, I have to raise an eyebrow. If Valerie was so confident that it wasn’t a costume, why weren’t we told? Did Jeff forget to include that? Or did he not press her for more information?
Either way, it’s something that doesn’t sit right with me, and I wish we’d been told why it looked so real. Was there life-like hair? Did it move like a bunny? Was it the same height as one? All of these questions are vital to discerning what someone saw, and yet we’ve got nothing to work with. Ah, a textbook case from About.com, the only website where details are rarer than a numbered Kingdom Hearts release!
Okay, I think that’s more than enough for this theory. It’s gone on for over 2,000 words, and I’m sure most of you are ready for something new. I have to admit, though, that I believed this warranted a hefty section. I like to treat these stories seriously and not as jokes; if I treat them that way, then this will devolve into a childish “roast” party.
That said, I think this theory doesn’t have much going for it. While the precedent of seeing holiday icons exists in some capacity, the logistics and unreliable nature of human memory hamstring it significantly. However, I won’t stop you, dear reader, from relishing the idea of the Easter Bunny being real. After all, what’s life without a bit of holiday cheer?
3. An interdimensional bunny…?
This theory makes me feel like I’m in an episode of The Twilight Zone. The only difference is that I’m in control of the episode, so I could’ve excluded this entirely.
However, I said I’d include this theory in every write-up. So, for our third theory, we have the idea that this was some interdimensional bunny—one with the power to bypass windows. How convenient!
Right off the bat, I’ll say that this theory does explain one thing I’ve blatantly ignored: Where did the Easter Bunny go after it left Valerie’s room? Well, if it were an interdimensional being—and a seemingly sapient one since it knew where Valerie’s room was and how to enter it—it likely left of its own volition.
More often than not, when it comes to interdimensional beings, they fall into one of two categories. They either run around, seemingly lost or scared, or act like they’re in our world with a purpose. In this case, it strikes me as the latter, which leads me to suspect that it might’ve been sapient. Of course, I could be overthinking things. You decide, dear reader!
That said, there’s no way to prove this since we have no idea if Valerie looked out the window after the Easter Bunny left. You know, that bothers me a lot now that I think about it. If a rabbit entered my room, gave me something, and then left, I’d look out my window to see where the heck it went.
Then again, Valerie was only 4 years old. I can’t say she’s entirely at fault here. If Valerie—or any child for that matter—got an Easter basket out of the blue, I imagine she would be ecstatic and too busy stuffing her face with candy. One can only wonder how intense of a sugar rush she got.
Beyond that one strength, I have virtually nothing to say here. This theory fails to explain how the rabbit entered through the window in any capacity. While it could’ve had futuristic tech, Valerie’s wording made it sound like the creature was a bunny and not something decked out in armor from a science-fiction movie.
On top of that, interdimensional beings often look abnormal. At least, in my opinion, they do. I tend to imagine them as the epitome of otherworldly and alien, like Black Stick Men, which is a case that I desperately need to rewrite because I didn’t do it justice whatsoever all those years ago.
Now, granted, this might’ve been a human-sized bunny (or a humanoid bunny—depending on how you interpret Jeff’s retelling of Valerie’s encounter). In regard, sure, it sounds like an interdimensional being; I’m unfamiliar with humanoid bunny cryptids (The Bunnyman urban legend doesn’t count because that’s a psychopath with an ax).
However, at the same time, it’s possible this was just a bunny. Personally, I’ve never heard of an interdimensional animal native to Earth—ever. If any of you have, I welcome hearing about it. Until then, though, I’m not putting any stock in Lassie telling someone that Little Timmy fell down the interdimensional well.
Suffice it to say, I have virtually nothing to say here. While the idea is interesting and does offer an explanation of how the Easter Bunny pulled a vanishing act, there’s nothing to point toward this being the case. So, once more, the interdimensional being theory leaves without an Academy Award for Best Theory. What a shame.
On the bright side, we now get to play the rationalization game. As difficult as that may sound, the three theories that remain are surprisingly simple and don’t require much thought. So, come along; let’s put on our thinking caps and try to explain what is easily a contender for one of this blog’s strangest mysteries.
4. A dream
Fun fact: This was going to be the final theory, but I liked how the last theory ended so much that I decided to make it the first of the “rationalization theories.” Yes, that’s what I’m going to start calling them. I have a gut feeling that I’ll forget what I refer to them as in about three months (if that) and start calling them something else.
Ah, whatever; this theory posits that Valerie had a dream. This is a highly plausible theory for a few reasons. At the same time, it has a flaw that’s so glaring that you could roll Jupiter through it.
Let’s start with what works. For starters, dreams can feel like they’re real. I cannot name the number of times I’ve sworn I was awake but was, in fact, dreaming. Sometimes, I was happy when I awoke. Other times, I was deeply saddened. That’s what happens when you tend to have vivid dreams—and sometimes lucid ones.
It would stand to reason that this could’ve been the case with Valerie. She had a dream as a child about meeting the Easter Bunny but forgot it was a dream decades later. While it may seem a bit weird for that to happen, there have been many things that I thought weren’t dreams from my childhood that turned out to be just that.
On top of this, if Valerie saw the Easter Bunny on Easter, that would make perfect sense. Dreams can be influenced by what you see and do in your waking life. If we were to assume that she’d seen tons of Easter decorations, Easter eggs, and other things related to the holiday, she likely would’ve dreamt of the Easter Bunny.
This would be more likely if you think about her age. Valerie was 4 years old at the time. She was undoubtedly eagerly awaiting the Easter Bunny’s arrival so she could have her fill of chocolate, sugar, and cavities. Easter: The Official Holiday of Dentists!
On a slightly more interesting note, it’s possible that this was a case of sleep paralysis. While Valerie doesn’t outright imply that the Easter basket wasn’t there, it’s possible she forgot there wasn’t one, and the “Easter Bunny” was a sleep paralysis hallucination (colloquially known as a Sleep Paralysis Demon, for those who are unfamiliar) and created a false memory.
Like I said, there’s a fair bit that works in this theory’s favor—and I think what I’ve presented is reasonable. Dreams are fascinating, and you can easily wake up panicked because you swore that you were experiencing something real. Trust me, I’ve had this happen many times.
However, the flaw I alluded to earlier is impossible to overlook. Yes, it may only be one, but I want to scrutinize it as much as I can because it truly demands it.
That flaw is: How on Earth did Valerie remember the dream?
I’ve already brought up how imperfect human memory is; I’ve done multiple times this month. However, remembering a specific dream decades later seems extraordinarily improbable. I cannot begin to imagine how unlikely that is; I have to imagine it’s too slim that you’d have a better shot of winning the lottery.
Now, in the interest of fairness, I acknowledge that some dreams can be highly memorable. I’ve had several that I fondly remember because they left me feeling warm and fuzzy, melancholic, or some other emotion that I don’t care to remember the name of. However, those are the exception. More often than not, I don’t remember what I dreamt about.
I especially don’t remember what I dreamt about when I was four years old. Well, not in terms of innocuous dreams. There are a handful of nightmares I had that I recall from when I was around the ages of 5 through 8. For the heck of it, I’ll share a bit of anecdotal information with you because I’ll give you an example of how astonishingly little I recall.
The dream in question must’ve happened around 2003. In the dream, all I saw was a map of Iraq—or possibly Syria. I believe there was something about nukes or an asteroid. I can’t remember which. Regardless, I’m almost certain the reason I had the dream was because Operation Iraqi Freedom had begun around that time, and it was all over the news.
My point is that I don’t remember dreams from when I was a child. Outside of the one I mentioned, there are two I recall—and they were nightmares. One of them I had during a vicious strain of strep throat, and I think I had it twice. It involved me on a magic carpet running away from various monsters. I hated the dream so much, and it made me afraid to go to sleep. Then I woke up and remembered I had strep throat. Yeah, I wasn’t winning either way.
I digress, though; my point is that nightmares typically stick with you a lot more than the average dream, be it pleasant or innocuous.
As such, how on Earth would Valerie have remembered this if she hadn’t written it down? I know that people can remember some oddly specific moments from their childhood, but this was a dream. Valerie said she was four when she saw the Easter Bunny. Let’s assume, once again, that she was 33 when she told this story to Jeff.
If we’re to assume that 29 years had passed since that day, that would mean 10,592 days had gone by. Now, granted, that’s if it were to the day. That’s highly unlikely, but I think you get the point. It’d be over 10,000 days. That’s 10,000 nights where Valerie would’ve had plenty of other dreams that would’ve been far more memorable than briefly meeting the Easter Bunny.
But, hey, what do I know? I’ve never dreamt of meeting the Easter Bunny, Santa Claus, a Leprechaun, Cupid, or any other holiday icon. Maybe if I had when I was a child, I would be whistling a different tune. As it stands, though, this is a flaw that I cannot turn a blind eye to.
Despite that, this theory still has a lot going for it. The strengths that are there are undeniably strong—in my opinion. As such, I’d label this as the second strongest possibility. It’s possible I’m overanalyzing things or that the entire thing stuck with Valerie because she genuinely believed that she saw the Easter Bunny but forgot the whole dream aspect. After all, if she had a strong emotional attachment to this dream, it’d stand to reason that she’d never forget it.
I’ll leave this one up to you to decide since I think this has gone on for long enough. Besides, I’ll get back to it when we get to my take on Valerie’s case. In the meantime, though, let’s advance to the next theory!
5. A hoax
I’ll keep this one short, sweet, and to the point. The idea here is that Jeff made the whole thing up for reasons that are far beyond my comprehension.
I’ve said before that this is possible, given the nature of the Internet, but it doesn’t sit right with me due to the apparent lack of a comment section on About. After all, where’s the fun in messing with the denizens of the Internet if you can’t read their reactions? It’s why “rage-bait” exists.
If you’re unfamiliar with what rage-bait is, it’s when someone posts something online that’s deliberately provocative. This can be something anything from voicing an unpopular opinion (like saying that a popular film or video game isn’t good) to posting a fake story about how you cheated on your dying spouse.
In short, it’s a sleazy tactic used to either troll or attract a large amount of Internet traffic (which can result in a large amount of ad revenue). This tactic can best be seen on Twitter nowadays, thanks to engagement farming.
My point is that if you’re going to make up a story, you’d want to reap the fruits of your labor. Yet, with About, I see no way to do that. I think there may have been a forum at one time—something I’ve failed to mention in previous write-ups featuring a case from About—but it either wasn’t archived, or I haven’t looked hard enough.
With that bit of repetition done, allow me to yank the rug out from beneath you guys. While reading the reactions of readers would be great, there comes a point when intentionally trying to get a rise out of people becomes obvious.
This story is a good example of that.
While I’m adamant that reading responses to one’s trolling efforts is fun (I’ve done it numerous times during NASCAR races on Discord; I like to joke around with friends and other server residents), Valerie’s story is a bit unique. It’s so outlandish that I think most would read it and not even bother reacting to it. That’s assuming they’d even give it the time of day, given Jeff entitled his report “Saw the Easter Bunny.” That sounds like a parody rather than anything serious.
At the same time, that could’ve been Jeff’s reasoning. He might’ve wanted people to come spend time reading something this absurd—even if he couldn’t read their reactions to it. The mere knowledge that someone, somewhere, had read it was enough to satisfy his mischievous side.
Alternatively, Jeff may have been interested in seeing if About would post the story. I have no idea if reports went through any moderation queue or not. If they did, it’s possible Jeff’s story slipped through.
There’s one other possibility, though, but that’s its own theory. We’ll get into it in the next theory. All I’ll say is that it’s highly plausible.
The last thing I’ll touch upon is that if Jeff wanted to submit a fake story, I don’t understand why he’d use his full name. The last thing a prankster would like is for their act to be traced back to them. That’s insanely counterintuitive and could lead to someone being hurt.
However, it’s possible that Jeff used an alias. After all, anonymity is a hallmark of the Internet. If this were the case, it seems like a cruel move. Jeff could’ve gotten someone hurt by tying this story not only to someone with Jeff’s surname but Valerie’s surname, too.
Then again, this was the Internet back in 2005. It was anything but a hug box. It still isn’t one, but there’s less razor wire scattered about the place. Besides, it’s not like About was some Wild West forum where people would track others down over petty squabbles. So, this is likely just me overthinking things and equating the Internet as it is today to how it was back then.
With all of that said, I have to say that I’m heavily skeptical of this theory. To me, this comes across as About’s equivalent to Saints Row IV. It’s like a fever dream more than a serious account of something unexplainable. While you can make the argument that Jeff wanted to have a bit of fun, I think the reward for making up something this absurd is nil.
Of course, that’s just me. I fully understand why some—if not many—would still subscribe to this theory. After all, Jeff claimed that Valerie saw the Easter Bunny. It’s not exactly an easy pill to swallow. But I digress; on to the final theory, which is one that heavily ties into this one!
6. Valerie pranked Jeff
This is, without a doubt, one of the most unique theories we’ve ever had on this blog. Sure, the concept of someone pranking another isn’t a novelty, but this is a bit more than your average “my friend pranked me by putting a toy spider on my bed” or something to that effect. No, this is more endearing and, honestly, cute.
It’s not uncommon for parents to want to keep the blissful, doe-eyed innocence of a child intact for as long as possible. While some may see it as cringe-worthy, parents are prone to always seeing their child as their little one—even after they’ve entered adulthood.
Personally, I think it makes a lot of sense. Valerie was someone whom Jeff looked up to; she was the mother of his best friend, and I believe she’d see him grow up alongside her own child. As a result, I think there’s a good chance that Valerie might’ve wanted to try and keep the legend of the Easter Bunny alive in Jeff’s mind—or, at the very least, try to.
Even if that weren’t the case, I could just as easily see this being a little prank that Valerie played on Jeff for the heck of it. It’s an innocent enough joke that it’s unlikely he went crazy over being told that someone saw the Easter Bunny. Unless, of course, Jeff started focusing on the logistics of the whole thing. In that case, I’m sure his bedroom became something out of the Stephen King short story 1408.
Given Jeff (and presumably his best friend) were in middle school, I could also see Valerie taking the opportunity to merely tease him by making up an extravagant tale. Why would she do this? If I had to guess, I’d say it was to play around—or see if there was still a part of Jeff’s being that held onto the belief in those whimsical holiday figures many grew up loving.
All things considered, I think this is the strongest theory as it explains a multitude of problems the story has. The first is that if Valerie were doing this impromptu, most of her details wouldn’t be thought out. That would explain the logistical issues I went over earlier.
While I’m not someone who goes around saying things like, “People are stupid,” I do acknowledge that the average person isn’t likely to think about a lot of intricacies when it comes to films, television shows, films, stories, and, yes, reports of the Fortean. Let’s face it, not all of us are going to be Sherlock Holmes every time we read or watch something.
As such, I can easily believe that Valerie didn’t care if the logistics were nonsense; they weren’t a priority when she was making up a story in hopes of keeping Jeff’s holiday spirit intact. Likewise, I doubt Jeff was analyzing every word she said and awaiting an inconsistency so he could have his Perry Mason Moment.
Another thing that works in this theory’s favor is that this would explain why the story lacks so many details. There was no effect from the passage of time. Valerie had no lifelong memory whatsoever. She just made stuff up.
The last thing I’ll mention is more anecdotal, but one that I think warrants being mentioned. Jeff would be at the right age to buy into a lot of really nonsensical stuff. I remember when I was around his age (11 or 12), I was gullible. I remember believing a whole bunch of silly things I read on the Internet. Heck, the first time I read a chain letter, I practically had a panic attack because I thought it was real.
Now, granted, Jeff did end off his report by pondering if the Easter Bunny (along with other holiday figures) is—or was—real. If we’re to assume he was 18 years old at the time, I think he’d be more than a bit silly. However, I’m willing to play the devil’s advocate and say that he was told this story by someone he was not only very close to but also looked up to. I’m willing to forgive him for taking her word to heart.
With those things out of the way, I do want to acknowledge three issues with this theory. I know, a theory with flaws; what a wild concept!
The first thing I want to go over is something you can dismiss, but I personally wish we were informed about: Did Jeff ever tell Tanner (Jeff’s best friend, if you’ve forgotten) about what his mom told him?
The reason I list this as a flaw is kids aren’t exactly known for keeping their mouths shut. Not only that, but Valerie was Tanner’s mom. I’d find it astounding if she’d never told him this. This would’ve helped Jeff learn if there were any inconsistencies in the story or if Tanner was even aware that this had happened to his mother.
As a side note: This flaw can be applied to the first four theories, too. I thought it was best suited for here because it’d be exceptionally baffling if Valerie chose to tell Jeff about this but not her own child.
Anyway, the second problem is that we don’t know if Valerie gave off any indication that she was pulling Jeff’s leg. We have no idea if she looked like she was stifling a laugh, giving any inconsistencies, or anything like that.
Admittedly, this could be due to Jeff having forgotten or him not paying attention. Both are very likely, though I think the latter is the answer. I doubt a 12-year-old could notice subtle changes in someone’s demeanor, nor would they be that analytical, especially when it sounded like Jeff was quite enthralled in the story. I mean, he said it was not only “shocking to hear,” but it’d opened his mind to the possibility of the Easter Bunny existing.
No matter how many times I type those words, it never gets any less surreal.
Nevertheless, it does bother me that Jeff didn’t bother to try to relay how Valerie looked while telling the story. If it stuck with him for so many years, I have to imagine he’d be able to remember something.
Oh, whatever; let’s move on. The third and most damaging flaw is that Jeff didn’t press Valerie further. This problem is one I cannot make a single excuse for.
Once again, you can include this in the first four theories; I briefly alluded to it earlier, but I felt like this was the best place to include it since it stands to reason that at some point, Valerie would’ve confessed she made it up.
Regardless, it bothers me heavily that Jeff apparently asked nothing. I get that he was shocked, and I understand that he was at an age where I doubt he knew how to be a worthwhile interrogator, but did he seriously ask no questions? None? He didn’t think to ask, “What’d your parents say about the Easter basket you received?”
What’s even more frustrating is that Jeff could’ve presumably rung Tanner up and asked to talk to his mom. Unless she died (which Jeff didn’t tell us she did), he could’ve questioned her while writing up the report. They had telephones back in 2005. Sure, many were landlines, but still! Flip phones also existed.
Also, yes, you can once again apply this issue to the first four theories. I know that may not be necessary to mention, but I felt obligated to do so anyway.
Oh well, I digress. Despite those issues, this theory is one that I’m willing to label as one of the most plausible. It fits in line with something a good-natured parent might do to keep a child’s holiday spirit alive, even if it might only be for a short while longer.
It’s definitely the one that I hope to be the case because, at its core, it’s something I’d do if I had children. There’s nothing more precious than the excitement and joy a child feels when they experience holiday cheer, and if that was Valerie’s goal, it appears to have succeeded.
7. Bugs Bunny
Our obligatory meme theory is one that I found in a rabbit hole while searching for eggs. It appears that Bugs Bunny took yet another wrong turn at Albuquerque. I have no idea how the madman (or madbunny) keeps doing it, but he does. What a legend—and how kind of him to deliver an Easter basket to a random child oh so many decades ago!
My Take
There are two theories that I think have an equally good chance of being the truth. The first is that Valerie pranked Jeff, while the second is that this was a dream.
As I blatantly said at the end of the sixth theory, I definitely feel like this was an attempt by Valerie to revitalize Jeff’s holiday spirit, an attempt to keep that flicker of childhood innocence intact for just a little longer. I truly hope that this was the case because, deep down, a part of me wishes more people still had that sense of holiday cheer. There’s so much unnecessary negativity in the world, and I yearn to see more people smile.
Oh well, that’s beside the point. To me, this theory is the one that flat-out makes the most sense to me. It checks all the boxes that I think it needed to check. Ordinarily, I’d go through them all, but we went over them right above; I don’t feel like repeating myself. At least, not this time.
That said, I also think the dream theory holds some merit, too. While the issue of Valerie remains a massive detriment to it, I cannot deny that the strengths it has going for it are exceedingly difficult for me to overlook.
Dreams, as I said, can often be mistaken for reality. If Valerie were to have clung to the dream throughout her life because it was something truly memorable and it meant so much to her, the likelihood of her remembering it would skyrocket. The only issue then is how she forgot it was a dream. However, that could be explained away as the memory becoming fuzzy. 33 years is more than enough time for that to happen, especially after she became a parent.
If I had to pick one of these theories, though, I’d definitely pick it as a prank on Valeri’s end. Not only because it strikes me as endearing and cute but also because it answers each question without having a flaw that breaks apart the case. The main flaws stem from Jeff’s actions, but that can be explained away as basic human error on his end.
Of course, you’re free to disagree with me. Heck, it’s possible that I forgot some flaws that could be raised. If that’s the case, then I thoroughly apologize for slacking off. You can attribute that to me writing this while suffering from a depressive spell, though. Evidently, bipolar and the holiday season go together like a lit match and a gas leak. Flame on, baby!
On one final note, I want to mention something kind of funny. When I went over to the Paranormal World wiki, I found that I had bookmarked a story about a talking cat. I don’t remember when I did this, but the story—coincidentally—was from About.
I thought about going back to splice in a reference to it in yesterday’s write-up because I mentioned I couldn’t find any other stories related to talking animals, but after reading through the report, I decided it wasn’t worth it since it came across as drastically different from Gene’s. I fully understand if you disagree, but this particular case sounds paranormal. As such, I opted against it. Still, I figured I’d bring it up; I’d rather be transparent about something like this. I’ll make it a point to cover it early next year, though.
Conclusion
This was an absolute monster of a write-up; I think this year’s Decemystery is going to leave me more exhausted than I was after last year’s duology. That’s amazing, really, because I wrote 64 write-ups last year, while this year is the standard 32.
Yet, despite that exhaustion, I have to admit that it leaves me with a unique sense of holiday spirit. Whenever I’m doing this, I realize that Christmas is just around the corner, and that means I get to see my family—and they mean the world to me. Likewise, I also get to share a bunch of crazy stories with my friends and, of course, you, dear reader!
But, with our story now done, it is time for us to part ways until tomorrow morning. But before you go, I must ask: What do you think is the truth behind Valerie’s case? Do you think she saw the Easter Bunny? Or was it something rational, like a dream or a prank? Also, let me know if you’d be interested in me covering those Santa Claus stories for next year’s Decemystery Bonus Entry; that’d be awesome!
Anyway, with all of that said, I bid you all farewell—and, as always, stay happy, stay healthy, and thank you for reading!
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