Sunday, April 16, 2006
Last night at our house the Easter Bunny stayed up past midnight making four-bean salad and perfectly swirled deviled eggs to take to the in-laws' Easter lunch. Then the Easter Bunny had to get up twice in the middle of the night to rock a little bunny who was having night terrors back to sleep.
Then the Easter Bunny got up at 6:00 in the morning, before anyone else, to arrange and display an easter basket, make special chocolate pancakes with whipped cream for the whole family for breakfast (a dish that the Easter Bunny of course knew the picky boy who lives here would not actually eat, but that the Easter Bunny made anyway because the Easter Bunny, like all mythical gift-giving beings, lives in hope). And then everyone else woke up. And then the Easter Bunny had to make ambrosia to take to the in-laws' also.
And then the Easter Bunny had to put on high heels and makeup and a floral dress and pearls and try to be chipper and sweet to people at all sorts of parties for the rest of the day.
And when the Easter Bunny finally got home and got to take off the damned heels and sit down, when the Easter Bunny reflected upon the day, the Easter Bunny was happy.
Because a little boy had a great time.
This is how I know the real Easter Bunny is a girl-bunny. And a mom.
(Well, that and the laying eggs bit. I mean, a bunny laying colored eggs is a stretch, sure, but a BOY bunny laying eggs? That's just impossible).