It started at 6:20 am. There’s no substitute for the morning joy of a child who’s found a basket full of candy and goodies in their bedroom. I was happy to get up at that early and godforsaken hour and eat chocolate with Child Harbat, mostly because my wife prepped me the night before, when she saw what I was preparing, that I was to be the one to get up with her. Oddly, the Easter Bunny left the candies in a nest of shredded financial documents from our shredder’s waste bin, and we spent some time pulling strips of paper from the sticky marshmallow sides of Peeps birds. All in good fun! Number Two also received some Easter cheer, to which he responded with a blank stare. Ahh, the enthusiasm of youth!
For my part, I was fully decorated by Child Harbat. Though I gave blood on Good Friday and imagined myself quite brave when the needle slid into my vein, it was nothing compared to the follicular pain of removing all these stickers. And to think women do this willingly!
CH searched for Easter eggs with some friends, then amazed me with her first ever act of deceit. On our way out the door from a friend’s house, she had her hands clamped tight shut over one another. “What’s in there?” I asked. “A potato bug. I want to bring him home.” I considering protesting then weighed the damage caused by a stray potato bug in the car versus the misery of abandoning a new and very small friend. “Fine, just keep him in your hands until we get home. She disappeared into the house and came back out with her cheeks full of something. My Supicio-meter hit the peg and I asked if I could see the potato bug. When she smiled and demurred, I knew the jig was up. I pried open her hands and found them packed full of gummy candies, the surplus of the ones filling her mouth. The treachery! Then began the long tumble down from Glucose Summit, to crash into the Valley of Tears by mid-afternoon. Happy Easter!