Every year since Big Papa and I have been together, the Easter Bunny magically appears on Easter Sunday. We discover chocolate eggs hidden between the chives and peeps perch on the birdbath and birdhouses. Occasionally, a close relative of Mr. Bunny can be found sunning himself on a branch in our plum tree.
This year the bunny took us all by surprise. Big Papa was the first to notice he’d made his annual appearance.
“Look, there are a few new birds sitting on the birdhouse,” he announced pointing out to our backyard.
Sure enough, there they were. Peeps! We surveyed the scene and found more evidence: chocolate chicks in the garden beds, and colorful eggs peeking out from behind the Hyacinth.
“Wow” marveled Big Papa.
“I didn’t know today was Easter.”
“Oh, but it is” I assured him.
And, for the duration of the day, so it was. We got into the spirit of spring and over the course of the day a few Peep chicks “disappeared” as we went about planting and enjoying a rare sunny Seattle day. For dessert, that night, a chocolate bunny was sacrificed.
Big Papa thanked the Easter Bunny and his helper (me) and then he said: “Thank goodness you remember these things. I know I never would.”
Three days later we discovered the error of my ways.
“Uh, sweetie” Big Papa remarked Wednesday morning.
“Easter is this Sunday!”
“Is that so?” was my retort, trying to hide the surprise in my voice.
Then I checked the calendar. I’ll be darned. Easter is indeed this Sunday.
Being forced to eat Easter chocolate a couple weekends in a row is hardly a catastrophe, but this little story offers up a picture of the bewildered state that my brain is in these days. Even though I know that stress can take a toll in myriad ways, I always feel a bit astonished when it wreaks havoc on me.
Happy Easter weekend everyone. As for me, I’ve got to get in touch with that darn bunny and let him know last week was just a practice run!
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