I forgot it was almost Easter. On Tuesday, my husband asked me nicely to clean the house, and I said, same as always, “Why?”
“Because Easter is Sunday.”
“EASTER IS SUNDAY??”
“And we will probably have people over.”
And because our theological views are as compatible as Ren and Stimpy, that is where the conversation ended, and I spent the day hooking up an old stereo I found so that I could have music while I cleaned, and then danced around the dining room singing “I Woke Up in Love This Morning” by the Partridge Family. Have you noticed how many of their songs seem to include thinly-veiled references to masturbation? Me neither.
While we are on the subject.
Easter is becoming less of a thing in our house. There will probably only be one or two more egg hunts, and they are really a joke because the kids figured out the tooth fairy last year and the dominoes started falling. We did not dye 10,000 eggs this year, for which I am sad and grateful. I did go to the store and buy a lot of candy, with the understanding that my husband will panic on Saturday morning and double it.
I noticed that the Reese’s Peanut Butter Eggs that are contained in the form of an oddly-shaped plastic bunny are no longer available. I like to think it’s because my relentless “DOES THIS LOOK LIKE A PENIS TO YOU?” campaign was a success, finally, after three years of (me) slapping it (the egg) down in front of people and sloooowly turning it around while staring menacingly and asking what it looked like to them.
I know, right?
The most notable answer to that question came from a co-worker, who said blandly, “I want to know what the hell kind of men you’ve been dating. Wait. No I don’t.”
In fact, I just googled “plastic peanut butter bunny penis shape” and there was no indication of such a product being on the market so I’m going to call it a win. And I’m never going to google that again.
It’s Friday. I really have to go clean.
But first, a break for thinly-veiled masturbation references:
“It’s one of those nights when you turn out the lights, and you lay in the dark, and you think to yourself – I miss her.
It’s one of those moods where your body broods and you conjure up her picture and you – kiss her.” ~ Yes, Love – The Partridge Family
Last night, I turned out the light, lay down and thought about you
I thought about the way that it could be
Two o’clock, wonderin’ what I’m doin’ here alone without you
So I close my eyes and dream you here to me and…
~ I Woke Up in Love This Morning – The Partridge Family
In other news, I was once the Easter Bunny for the annual corporate event for a well-known company that builds airplanes. I had to put on a – I said EASTER bunny! There were no bunny dips! – big white furry costume where I could kind of see out the mouth and it was ten thousand degrees Fahrenheit inside and 5 billion children wanted to sit in my lap.
Why do they do that? To tell me what they want for Easter?
Anyway. As I always do, I turned it into a farce by overthinking it.
“Do bunnies talk?” I overthought to myself. “No. Do Easter Bunnies? What does an Easter Bunny voice sound like? WHAT IF THEY ASK ME RIDICULOUS QUESTIONS LIKE “Why did grandma die?” and once you are committed, you can’t change because “MOM! Why did the bunny talk to Elroy and not to ME?” So I decided no talking.
And I was the creepy silent Easter Bunny. I don’t have a picture, but this will give you the idea:
And lest you think I am exaggerating, several years later I relayed this story to a co-worker and she exclaimed, “My husband used to work at that plant! We took the kids to see the Easter Bunny that year! That was YOU? Why would you not TALK?”
So there you go.