Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Here comes Peter Cottontail....


I have theatre on the brain at the moment...more on this later.

Easter Scene opens with beautifully frocked children scampering about in a closely mown field, collecting eggs and depositing them in their intricately decorated baskets.....

Easter has never been a huge holiday for me.  I don't remember a huge fuss being made about it as a kid....though I do remember some yummy brunches at the country club my grandparents belonged to.

When my guys were little we dyed the eggs, hid the eggs, had baskets, etc.  I remember procuring a few cute easter ensembles for my daughter, though I was never into the whole ruffle, lace and patent leather shoe thing.  I think all her Easter outfits were Lilly Pulitzer-esque with hot pink zebras and lime green crocodiles or some other very un-eastery animal print.  But, those days are over, and just in case I wasn't really really sure about that, this conversation with my son this morning put it all into crystal clear perspective.

Me:   So!  We don't really have any big plans for Easter this year.

Him:  Uh huh

Me:  I guess we could do SOMETHING though, if you want?

Him:  Uhhhhh  (there are a LOT of "uhs" and "uh huhs" in the teenage vernacular...btw....as if they've somehow completely lost the ability to communicate at all.  In a way, teenagers are like little drunkards.  You wake them up in the morning, they look like they've been on a 4 day bender and then they stagger around the rest of the day, inebriated, I suppose, on their toxic hormonal cocktails.....good GRIEF!)

but I digress...

Him:  Uhhhhh

Me:  Would you like me to hide some eggs for you?

Him:  Sure.  If they're filled with money.

Easter scene closes with the bunny getting run over by a teenage driver speeding through my neighborhood.

Sigh.

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