It’s All Fun & Games ’til Momma Sits on the Easter Bunny.

It’s All Fun & Games ’til Momma Sits on the Easter Bunny.

So, y’know how I was hoping that Easter pictures wouldn’t turn out like our round one Christmas pictures?  Dude.  I thought we had skated by bad attitudes.  Wrong-o!  One change of clothes & a sippy-cup sighting later and it was photo smack down all over again.  Thankfully I got some good ones before Things 1 & 2 (more so Thing 1 than 2) turned into Goblins Heeby & Jeeby.

Cate & I thought everything was going to go soooo smoothly, too.  We got up on time (a first), got out the door on time (never happens), and not one but BOTH kids were the sweetest getting out the door.  And then it happened.  When I say we changed shirts & the shit hit the fan, I’m serious.  Pulp Fiction baby style.  So we threw up our hands, got in the car, & headed out.  To the MALL.  Bad idea.  Well, not so much at first.  There was a little petting zoo by B&BW with a bunny & some ducks.  The kids loved it.  We had a hard time getting them away from it until *GASP* they spotted it.  The friggin’ Easter Bunny.  They were all about it until we got up to take pictures.  Then, not so much.  We put them together thinking that, with some moral support, they’d chill, take a photo, and we could get on the road.  Not. Even. Almost.

I wound up sitting with on the bunny (no worries — it was a six-foot rodent suit that I’m pretty sure held a sixteen year old with acne & BO from hell) with our chitlins in front of God & everybody.  They still weren’t having it.  The woman took at least 10 pictures (all of which were comical.  or at least would be in a year or two.  maybe.) and the best one was this one:

hip hop my ass.

Gabe looks petrified.   Abi might look a little deranged.  My nose is massive (for real, it wasn’t that big even after I had Gabe and I was sporting quite a schnoz, then).  And that bunny?  Damn that rabbit’s freakin’ trippy.  I’m beyond grateful our mall didn’t have the Easter bunny when I was their age, ’cause I’d have shit a brick if I had to sit with that thing.  No wonder the kids had mini-panic attacks.  And you can’t see it, but I am totally sitting on the poor guy’s foot.  Oops.

All-in-all, it was a productive weekend.  Easter pictures: done.  Car washed: done.  Kids still alive: check.  Momma’s not liquored up: ch–well.

Nah, just kidding.  Now be a dear & hand me that flask glass.


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