This past weekend, my daughter anxiously awaited the arrival of the Easter bunny.
"Is it a boy or a girl?" my daughter asked me again, for the 20th time that week.
"Female, definitely," I maintained. After all, I thought to myself, how else could she pull off the organization needed to visit so many homes in such a short amount of time, deliver artfully crafted Easter baskets, and hide colorful eggs, all the while looking so fluffy and pretty?
Flash forward to late Saturday night. I was preparing to go to bed, and hubby was preparing to head out for a quick stop at his brother's birthday party.
"I still have to get Olivia's Easter basket put together, and hide it for tomorrow morning," I grumbled as I cleaned up the kitchen.
"Don't worry, I'll do it," my husband reassured me. I shot him a quizzical look. "I'm not a moron, I can handle it," he replied, grinning as he walked out the back door. I was too tired to argue, and, after all, it was only a child's Easter basket, so I put the basket, grass, and bag of goodies on the counter and went to bed.
Those were his famous last words.
Sunday morning my daughter woke us up nice and early.
"Mommy, MOMMY!" she whispered, while poking my shoulder. "I want to go look for my Easter basket. I've already checked and she ate the carrots I left out for her. Can you get up now?!"
The family slowly made our way downstairs, and after 5 minutes of looking, my daughter triumphantly pulled her Easter basket out from behind a cabinet in the dining room. She took it into the family room, and began to examine its contents.
"Look!" she said excitedly, "The Easter bunny brought me 2 bags of grass!" (Yes, the unintended innunendo here is funny too.) "How nice- 2 bags! I can use it for crafts!"
"Bags of grass?" I questioned. Sure enough, the plastic decorative grass that you are supposed to take out of the bag and put in the bottom of the basket was still bagged and sitting in the basket.
"Oh! The bunny must shop at Woodman's!" my daughter innocently continued. "Here's a bag of candy from the store! There's a bag of gum eggs, some Skittles, and a chocolate bunny!"
At this point I realize what has happened. I look over at my hubby who refuses to look my way. I am torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to crack my hubby upside the head.
"You didn't put the basket together!" I muttered under my breath.
"Sorry, I was tired and thought you did it," was my hubby's reply. "At least I hid it. She doesn't care."
And he was right- she didn't care, especially once she saw the passes to a local water park. I really wish I had had the camcorder rolling for this one. I could have held it over my husband's head for the remainder of his life. He would have never lived it down. But at least I've blogged about it here, just for the record. Feel free to comment and torment him as necessary. :-)
