You are not going to believe what this Dumb Bunny did at our house today. I'm practically speechless, I just can't even believe that we have to put up with such poor service. And so soon after the whole Tooth Fairy fiasco too.
I need a new Easter Bunny and a new Tooth Fairy. Surely in this economy I should be able to find a motivated person to put this suit on and do the job right, don't you think? Any takers?
So, here's the deal. Peanut Head and I are enjoying our Sunday morning, sleeping not quite peacefully as we have kids hopped up on sugar popping into our room every five minutes to update us on the loot "The Easter Bunny brought us a blah-blah-blabbity-blah-blah and we're so BLAH-SQUAWK-SQUEAL . . ."
In other words, a typical Sunday morning except with sugar crack dropped into the mix.
Then Loot Report No. 1,764, Private Zoe arrives at our bedside, all glee and sweet happiness leached from her voice, "The Easter Bunny didn't hide our eggs. Why didn't he hide our eggs? They're still in the refrigerator. Why would he do that?"
My mind first freaks out . . . OH CRAP! They can actually reach the refrigerator now! And open it! And make simple logistical calculations and interpretations about what may or may not be in said refrigerator when it should not be there still. So screwed. How to recover? What to do. Mind racing and freaking out and freaking out and racing. Crap, crap, crappity crap!
Then, in my sweetest of voices, the fake one . . . "What sweetie? Hmmm. Maybe the Easter Bunny didn't want to hide the eggs outside because it rained last night."
So not impressed, Private Zoe retorts ,"Well then he could have hid them inside. He's done that before. Why didn't he hide our eggs?"
I couldn't very well say that maybe the Easter Bunny doesn't love her anymore, now could I? So I did what any other parent backed up against the wall would do. I lied.
"I bet the Easter Bunny wants to wait and see if it's going to be a nice day out. Then he's probably going to come back and hide your eggs when we're at church."
Whew! She bought that one. I have so got to get my ducks in a row or I'm going to get caught here and soon.
Thankfully that Bonehead of a rabbit made good on my untruth. The weather was beautiful and the wind chimes were tinkling softly in the breeze. The kids walk in to find this.
Samma-Lamma-Ding-Dong, mauling an Easter egg. Seriously, could it get any worse? Never mind, I know the answer to that.
Yeah, so Drool Girl here thought she wanted to eat the egg, but apparently she couldn't figure out how to get it open, so she just slimed it instead. Thankfully we still had 20 others and the hunt was on.
Stinkerbell here knows how to hunt her some eggs. When she was around two, we were part of a play group, and for our yearly Easter party the other mothers were afraid that Girlfriend here was going to get to all the eggs before their kids could claim some for themselves. Smashley told me about the fearful talk running rampant in our play group, so I was able to tie some weights underneath Girlfriend's pretty dress to slow her down a bit and give the other kids a chance.
Nice picture, Zoe Bug. I can see you not looking at me. I know you're scanning the yard for eggs. Don't fake it.
Poor Zoe Bug. She was wearing her Glitter Monstrosities, pink glitter shoes that she just had to have. She was so desperate for them that she took them in the only size that was available, Tuna Boat, and watching her walk is a comedy. She's always flinging them off the ends of her feet and stumbling when she walks in them.
Up here on the play set, she asked me if she could take her shoes off so she could get down safely. Sure Sweet Thing. Knock yourself out. No, don't. I mean don't knock yourself out.
Grace is not her middle name. She takes after her Mama.
Zoe tried so hard, but with the Tuna Boat shoes and her Wile E. Coyote sister, she was lucky to get any eggs at all.
And look, we amputated one of Stinkerbell's legs just to even the playing field.