Saturday, March 30, 2013

Thanks Easter Bunny, Bock Bock!

SPOILER ALERT!  This post will discuss some of the Easter Bunny's methods and special helpers, so read on at your own risk.

The Easter egg hunt.  A time-honored tradition across the country, and certainly in my house.  I remember always checking the backyard before leaving for church and sure enough, there were never any eggs to be seen.  Our bunny came while we were gone.
 As soon as we returned home, my brothers and I would jump out of the car to see our pastel wonderland of plastic eggs packed with sugar.  But every year it was the same: we had to take family pictures first.  In the front yard.  Tons of pictures.  My mom would send my dad into the house to find the tripod so that we could set the camera timer and capture this happy family in all their finery.  It took him forever to locate that thing and I spent years thinking that my dad was a moron because he couldn't just grab the tripod from the closet where it was kept.  Really, it wasn't until I was an adult that I had that "a-ha!" moment when I finally put the pieces together to realize how all the eggs magically appeared in our yard while my mom insisted on another angle or a different pose.

Now it's up to me to continue the magical Peep-fueled spectacle.  My boys still seem to enjoy it - mostly because of the candy haul that they receive.  My job goes something like this: pack the eggs with various candy, eat most of the candy, place the eggs in their hiding places, and pray that the dogs don't find them first.  We've had squirrels carry them off a ways before the hunt, with the contents strewn about in disgust once they'd determined that walnuts were not hidden inside.

My most memorable Easter Bunny experience came a few years ago.  My friends and I had decided to go out on Saturday night to hear a favorite local band.  We stayed out late - very late.  When I stumbled in at 3 am I realized I still needed to get things ready for the next morning - scratch that - later the same morning.  Who knew the Easter Bunny came at such an ungodly hour, smelling of margaritas?  Let's just say that the hunt didn't take too long that year.  The boys found everything quite easily.  Almost as if the Easter Bunny had twisted its ankle in high heels on uneven grass and dropped the eggs right there where she (or he) fell.  Something along those lines.

When Zack was three years old he woke up before us and enjoyed his own Easter hunt.  He discovered our stash of Cadbury cream eggs that were on the kitchen counter.  I'm not sure how long it took him but when I came in he was holding an egg in one hand and was slowly licking it.  He didn't look as though he was enjoying it though; in fact he had that "I'm-about-to-hurl" look.  After removing the melty, sticky mess from his little toddler fingers I cleaned up all the foil shreds and realized that he had eaten two full cream eggs and was working on his third.  Ugh.  No wonder he had a rumbly tumbly!

So enjoy your Easter traditions, whatever they may be.  Here's hoping that you find lots of good stuff - and no surprise year-old eggs!

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