Easter Is The Gift That Keeps Giving And Giving
I can't believe I didn't write about it when it happened. I think maybe I was trying to pretend it wasn't real, but OH, IT WAS REAL.
Anyway.
The beginning. Let's start there, shall we?
The beginning looks a little like I'm sure it does at everyone's house. Easter rolls around and it's time to hide the eggs. A half-awake and desperate-for-sleep Easter Bunny wobbles around and hides eggs and then immediately curses herself out for not creating a map.
Where is Dora and her damn Map when you need her?
That's to say, the eggs are hidden, but WHERE? It sure would be nice to remember that detail.
Easter morning rolls around and certain children who are opposed to sleep wake up at Oh My Hell o'Clock and immediately set out to find the eggs. Certain Easter Bunnies are HUGE FANS of sleep and do whatever they can to pretend there is no reason to crawl out of bed. Worlds collide and I end up with a kid who is gleeful that she has a basket full of eggs, but I know she missed some. I KNOW. I just don't know which ones.
So every year I roam the house with Alexis and try to find the eggs that were missed. It's a rather fruitful activity in that I end up with about a dozen peanut butter eggs that I can totally claim as my own, but we always miss some. ALWAYS.
No matter what I do and how thoroughly I search, we will always continue to find Easter eggs long after the Easter Bunny has sailed into the sunset.
That's how it happened. That's how it came to be that Alexis found herself curled up next to me on the couch making a confession.
"Momma, I have to tell you something," she started. That's the line she uses when she's about to admit something she is absolutely certain is bad. Very bad. Usually the reality is that it's something itty bitty and I end up laughing hysterically at how very serious she is that she had to admit she spit out a bite of a cookie and threw it away three weeks ago. (That is part of a very true story. The kid is ... odd. And has one hell of a guilty conscious.)
"I found an Easter egg and I ate the candy out of it without asking permission," she continued.
THE NERVE. HOW DARE SHE.
Here's the thing. That little confession happened ... TWO WEEKS AGO. BEFORE EASTER 2013. That candy was at least a year old. Possibly two years old. Maybe older. I don't know! I can't ever find all of the eggs!
And that is how I learned that it's OK to eat really old chocolate. YUM!
Wednesday, April 3, 2013
Reader Comments (4)
Hilarious! One year when I was a little kid, I got really sick on Halloween and couldn't go trick or treating. I was so upset that I wouldn't be able to wear my costume and get candy. My parents decided to hide candy around the house so I could still dress up and "trick or treat". Problem was, they ALSO forgot to make a map of where all the candy was hidden, and I didn't find it all that night. In fact, for years after that night we would find random chocolate in the strangest places. And speaking from experience, chocolate is still good YEARS later!
Oh, that is hilarious!
One little tidbit I remember as a child - never hide real, hard-boiled eggs. For some unknown reason we did that one year, luckily outside in our yard. And then several weeks later tried to figure out why a corner ot he yard smelled like, well, rotten eggs.
Great memories for me, but I'm sure it was a PITA for my parents, who had to try to dig a rotten egg out of the hole in the fencepost where someone had hid it. LOL.
this cracked me up
also, i love that she already has figured out a golden rule: it is better to ask forgiveness than to ask permission.
you are so screwed!