04 April 2007
Here is Bella's Easter Bunny. She is very excited at the prospect of sitting on faux grass in a basket. She thinks it will be cushy and quaint. Bella is also very excited about her bunny. She couldn't keep her hands off her while I was trying to get a picture. Here, poor little Bunny is about to get goosed.
I figured it was ok to let her see her before Easter because, let's face it, Bella's one. And also it's not like it is from the Easter Bunny. It's from mommy. The Easter Bunny has been tipped off to bring her a toy that was on sale last week at Target (and will guaranteed be a bigger hit than poor little pointy Bunny here.)
Easter is the big holiday around here, what with the bunnies and all. So I'm excited either way. But can I just say, wouldn't it be nice if it wasn't 32 degrees with snow piling up on the new fantasy deck gazebo? I have two ideas for solving this. My first one seems so obvious, why didn't we do it centuries before? Move Easter. It needs to be about a month later. From my (limited) understanding, we're a little vague on the exact dates for anything Jesus did, and based the whole Christian calendar on trying to confuse the Pagans anyway. And Congress clearly has this power since they moved daylight savings this year. So there's obvious solution number 1. Obvious solution number 2 is to move South, and I have just the place. Martha Stewart's planned community in Orlando! That would make Easter warm, sunny, and tastefully decorated every year. Not to mention mouseketastic!!
However, both of these solutions run the risk of Easter not having that Spring-y feeling, and I'd hate to sacrifice that. The bulbs poking out of the snow, the mud smell, the cold misty morning the Bunny leaves your basket. That kind of thing is hard to give up. You can't replace those things with palm trees and predictable temperatures. Woe's the poor Hawaiian trying to feel festive about Easter.
I have another philosophical Easter question. What happens to the bunnies that all the photo studios use for their live baby bunny photo ops? My money is on that they don't get sent home to live in large, carpeted cages with a webcam lovingly pointed at them. I'm thinking they get fed to snakes. Which makes me sad.
Brent is in Washington DC this week and although he claims taking long walks around the White House and the monuments at dusk in short sleeves is not that great, I'm starting to suspect it is. But I have to admit, staying up late sewing bunnies, eating peanut butter from the jar, and watching HGTV may not sound that great either. But it is. A little bachelorette time is just what I need to properly appreciate companionship. And when Brent is back on Friday we are all three of us going to spend the day together doing companion-y type of things, and I can't wait.