When I was growing up, my grandmother would regale me with horrifying stories about the live baby chicks people used to stuff inside Easter baskets when she was girl in Pittsburgh in the (otherwise roaring) '20s. The lil' baby birds would be the center of attention for all of Easter morning, till the kids' attention turned faster than Jesus flipping a table full of money changers at the neighborhood temple. Naturally, the results weren't that great, as baby chicks are known to grow into adult chickens. Yikes.
It was a problem. But my parents, in their infinite boomer wisdom, decided to forgo livestock in my Easter baskets, and simply load them with delicious high fructose seasonal candy magic. And look at me! I grew up to be just... fine... I guess. But of course, some Easter candy is decidedly better than others. There's the cream of the springtime crop, and some obvious basket-filler.