Real life from the crack of dawn....
Sunday, February 12, 2012
That Crappy Bunny
So I was reading my Google Reader tonight and an entry on my brother's blog popped up.
Smiling, I read his tale of his three year old son Nathaniel asking his Daddy where the Easter Bunny lived (he replied Bunny Land but was then stumped when further queried about an exact geographical location.)
This brought back one of my most irreverent Easter memories.
When Kate was small, she had an EXTREME fear of people in costume.
Rob and I didn't know it until she caught sight of a man dressed up as Santa when she was 17 months old. At that time, our busily running toddler caught sight of the man in the red suit, came to an abrupt halt and DROPPED full-on to the floor, where she started screaming and dragging herself on her belly across the floor in pure terror.
This continued through all manner of costumed characters: Sesame Street, Halloween, singing and dancing costumed ANYTHING- whatever. It was all grounds for wet pants and meltdowns of epic proportions.
After a few clothing changes, Rob and I grew much better at getting her the heck out of Dodge when someone was going to make an appearance in costume.
However, after our move up the coast, we were invited to a friend's birthday party for her twin girls. Kate was about to turn three at the time. There were fun games and (I believe) an Easter Egg hunt. Things were going splendidly and fun was had by all.
But then, suddenly and unexpectedly, a SURPRISE! appearance by none other than the EASTER BUNNY!
I remember seeing Kate come a dead halt. Rob and I were in instant motion, grabbing her and moving quickly away from the offending creature, while praying we weren't going to get peed on by our terror-stricken child.
We said our quick goodbyes and stuffed her into the backseat of the car for the drive home.
"Mom, Dad?" said our toddler as we spirited her home, "That was SCAWY!"
"Yes, you were scared. But it's all right now." we replied.
There was a pause and some rapid thumbsucking noises from the backseat. Then a weary sigh and this question:
"So when is all this Easter shit going to be over, anyway?"