The Ectr Bune is Coming!
Easter snuck up on me this year. It falls way too early on the calendar, for starters. It's still cold here and even though I did buy the kid a dress to wear on Sunday, she'll be wearing it under a sweater and her winter coat. And she'll be clomping through the snow in white shoes. It's all good. We'll go to church and then go out to brunch. We don't celebrate Easter in the traditional sense, I suppose, because we are UUs. We (our little family) treat it as a celebration of spring and rebirth. And chocolate.
All week long I've been tossing out various threats and linking them directly to the Easter Bunny. "Oh, it's too bad the Easter Bunny won't be bringing you anything, since you decided not to pick up your toys."
When one of my sisters was little, she wrote an essay at school about Easter. She was at that age where teachers tell the kids just to sound it out each word and then spell it like it sounds. So my sister (I can never remember which one did this) wrote a story about the "Ectr Bune." Our parents, who exhibit unflagging, unwavering support for their children at all times and would never make fun of them, took one look at it said, "Who the hell is the Eckter Boon?" My middle sister once wrote a story about "Ronded Raygun who lives in the whit house." "He got shot," my sister wrote, "But he did not doy." You have to admit that Raygun is a way funnier spelling than Reagan.
Speaking of the Ectr Bune, I pulled P aside the other day and asked him what sort of egg-related Easter traditions his family had when he was growing up. I was trying to decide how things should play out at our house. When I was growing up, the Ectr Bune hid real hard-boiled eggs around the house (eggs that we had dyed, of course). The thing is, we didn't have dogs when I was a kid. If we used real eggs now and the dogs found them first . . . man, I don't even want to think about it. So, the Ectr Bune is going to hide plastic eggs, each containing a fun-size pack of "Neminems." If all goes well, the kid will have a sugar buzz before 9 and then disintegrate into full-on hysteria by noon.
All week long I've been tossing out various threats and linking them directly to the Easter Bunny. "Oh, it's too bad the Easter Bunny won't be bringing you anything, since you decided not to pick up your toys."
When one of my sisters was little, she wrote an essay at school about Easter. She was at that age where teachers tell the kids just to sound it out each word and then spell it like it sounds. So my sister (I can never remember which one did this) wrote a story about the "Ectr Bune." Our parents, who exhibit unflagging, unwavering support for their children at all times and would never make fun of them, took one look at it said, "Who the hell is the Eckter Boon?" My middle sister once wrote a story about "Ronded Raygun who lives in the whit house." "He got shot," my sister wrote, "But he did not doy." You have to admit that Raygun is a way funnier spelling than Reagan.
Speaking of the Ectr Bune, I pulled P aside the other day and asked him what sort of egg-related Easter traditions his family had when he was growing up. I was trying to decide how things should play out at our house. When I was growing up, the Ectr Bune hid real hard-boiled eggs around the house (eggs that we had dyed, of course). The thing is, we didn't have dogs when I was a kid. If we used real eggs now and the dogs found them first . . . man, I don't even want to think about it. So, the Ectr Bune is going to hide plastic eggs, each containing a fun-size pack of "Neminems." If all goes well, the kid will have a sugar buzz before 9 and then disintegrate into full-on hysteria by noon.
Comments