If I were to list my "Top Ten Things About Being a Parent", holidays would definitely rank on the list. What better excuse to relive your own childhood than by going gangbusters when Halloween, Christmas, birthdays, Lumpy Rug Day and Dandelion Day (both May 3, 2008, for the record) roll around?
The upcoming Easter holiday has me a bit flummoxed however. I was looking forward to a weekend spent in Dallas and Ft. Worth, and not just because we'll be heathen-free (no dogs) for two days. We're all geared up to bring Lily to her inaugural Stars hockey game on Saturday and then take in the Ft. Worth zoon on Easter Sunday.
Alas, the weekend away will present some logistical challenges when it comes to the Big Bunny's visit. I already made the mistake of dragging the Easter baskets out of the dusty garage bin and putting them on the top shelf of the pantry. The bug immediately spotted them of course. I brushed that off by saying I was getting them out so the Easter Bunny could fill them up. Never mind that when I was a kid, we didn't leave baskets out to be filled. No, when I was a kid, the Easter Bunny did full-service delivery, baskets and all. Changing of the times, I guess. Self-service is in, right? If you don't agree, just try to find a gas station attendant to fill your tank these days.
No, I have to devise a way for the Easter Bunny to zero in on Lily, even though we'll be staying the night in a hotel. And making sure she doesn't spot any evidence on the trip up. I think I have to rule out colored hard-boiled eggs. Just the thought of the odor that will ferment in the back cargo area during the 3+ hour car drive north makes me a little nauseous, and that's not even factoring in the likely case of salmonella that would result from eating said eggs.
I also envision the Easter chocolate melting into the green and purple plastic "straw," but actual food poisoning is probably less of a concern with that. Then there's the challenge of sneaking the basket into the hotel room. And then explaining how the Easter bunny found her in Dallas. And then convincing her she cannot eat all the candy on the drive back to Austin that afternoon. Sugar rushes and car seats are NOT a good combination.
I think I'm beginning to understand why the expression "home for the holidays" came about. Maybe it's not too late to do just that.
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