Hush now baby, baby don't you cryThis morning the rain cleared up long enough for us to have Easter breakfast outside (far too early) at the long barn door table in the orchard, the table freshly pressure-washed and freakishly splintery on my end, at least. Sam stood up and said Grace, Christian took most of the bacon when the plate was passed and John took the rest, and Henry complained loudly that he was too old for an egg hunt anyway (cancelled due to weather) and then almost in the same breath said he missed the egg hunt and huge quantities of chocolate the Easter bunny would bring before he was too old.
Mama's gonna make all of your nightmares come true
Mama's gonna put all of her fears into you
Mama's gonna keep you right here under her wing
She won't let you fly but she might let you sing
Not to worry, the Easter bunny made his annual appearance anyway, coattails flying, shoes shined, eyes freakishly glossy and huge in the full bunny-head costume that has been shared duty between the boys for the past fifteen years. Henry saw him first and shrieked with excitement, making the rest of us laugh when his voice cracked.
We watched as the giant bunny scurried around the table, spilling eggs onto everyone's heads/plates/laps, then ran up to the house, throwing eggs into flowerpots, shoes, under chairs, balancing them on the door sills and on the gazing balls and then finally coming back and dropping the final egg down the front of my dress.
I fished it out with a frown and gave it back. The bunny took it, mimicked wild gut-busting laughter, and set his basket down. He walked over behind Loch, manhandled him up out of his chair and stuffed the egg in his mouth. Then he grabbed the basket and ran like hell across the lawn and through the gate.
Back home to the boathouse.