Jaded Bunny

There's something to be said for being the "baby" of a family four children with huge gaps of time in between the births - your mother is a worn out wreck of life's ups and downs, and she's been the Easter Bunny for way too long.

I've been the Easter Bunny for 26 years. I did a great job of hippity hopping along the bunny trail for 25 years. This year was different.

The easter eggs were painted, the tables for the family feast gaily decorated. So far, so good. Night time came, exhaustion set in. I went to bed with the eggs unhidden, the family tradition of the Easter morning Easter Egg hunt unprepared. My husband woke me up at 3:00 a.m. - "Honey, we need to hide the eggs." I mumble through drool and bad breath "Thas ohkay, I do *slight snore, startle back awake* laaeer." Longer snore, more drooling, more bacteria partying in my mouth.

"Mom." A voice hissed in my ear. I opened one gluey eye. Savannah, nine years old, staring at me with something akin to dislike in her eyes. "THE EASTER BUNNY DID NOT COME. THE EGGS ARE STILL ON THE TABLE." Oh, Oh.

I quickly sit up, mind churning through guilt, sleepiness, and the lizard brain instinct to find a way to survive the onslaught thats coming from one rightiously pissed off little girl. "Oh, hmm, gee. Well. The Easter Bunny must have gotten delayed. I bet you'll be on his evening run." Bright smile.
The figerative gloves are tossed upon the ground (yes, the white cotton Easter gloves, symbolic of good manners and civility). "I KNOW YOU ARE THE EASTER BUNNY, MOM! YOU FORGOT TO HIDE THE EGGS!" I gasp. Beyond a certain age children know that part of their jobs as children is to ignore the mom behind the curtain. The magic can continue, but you must NOT pull back the curtain. I was exposed.

I'd like to say that I immediately got up and ran to hide eggs. I did not. Instead I gave her a broom and asked that she sweep the hallway. Time was awastin' - the feast for 17 people needed to come together. After all, I'd overslept!

As the older children arrived, they heard about the failure of the jaded bunny. They could have done any number of things to help relieve the disappointment of one, or the guilt of another. Instead they gleefully found the old home videos of Easters past and played them, one right after the other while saying, "See, Savannah? Thats how Easter SHOULD have been for you. Mom's really losing it, huh? Poor you."

My tail's not so fluffy, my fur is rather scruffy, long ears droop over squinting pink eyes. My whiskers can still manage a twitch or two, however. The amends were made by the promise of a scavenger hunt at her 10th birthday party this weekend. I hope Pirate Mom doesn't sleep in.

Arrrrrgh...