Hunting for Bunnies

(This post is a continuation of yesterday's post.)

I think that Easter probably could have been complete after our mid-morning photo shoot, as little can top the world's cutest boys dressed up like high society folk and talking about bodily functions.  But alas, my family was scheduled to arrive for a big, ham laden lunch.

Yes, the side of my house is that dirty.  Better the siding than the children.

For the next two hours I scurried around the house to scrub away the appearance that I never clean, and for several hours after that, all thirteen of us ate, socialized, and did our very best to communicate solely by mobile device.

After our family left, we readied ourselves for a visit from the Easter Bunny, who we'd texted earlier and asked to come a little bit later in the day since we were so busy with other activities.  Since Christmas is our family's biggest overindulgence, we have always taken a more modest approach to Easter; playing up the fun of the treat hunt and playing down the potential for full-on anarchy if one feels jipped by the fluffy-tailed rodent.

But secretively, inexplicably, the bunny did his modest magic while the boys were making a run to the store with Daddy.  He (or she?) slyly placed two buckets on the counter with a few goodies that would be sure to excite Cael and Graham. 



Cael was thrilled to see that the Easter Bunny had, in fact, seen his faxed request fora chocolate bunny and delivered on his promise, while Graham was enamored with the new kissing Simba and Nala for he and his brother to share. But the real excitement, the real drama, came when they saw the first plastic egg outside on the deck.


The boys ran at full speed, scooping up eggs and tripping over one another as if they were running for the freedom of the Mexican border after robbing a bank.  Or a bunny with a sweet tooth.

The Easter Bunny had smartly hidden eggs around the backyard and on the firetruck to provide a challenge for Cael, but also created a path of colored eggs to give Graham the opportunity to participate as well.

But the bunny had apparently not done his homework and underestimated Cael's hunting speed.  At the same time, he overestimated Graham's ability to stay on two feet while excited; the slightly wet grass coupled with an adrenaline overload kept my youngest off his feet and his eggs in a constant state of "spill".

After just a few moments, all of the eggs had been found and, just like Christmas (or Valentine's Day, or Halloween) we begin the daunting task of rationing the candy, a job only slightly more enjoyable than cleaning the cat's litter box after he's gotten into the candy himself.

So for now until what seems like the end of time, the boys can choose one piece of candy, provided that they don't choke one another or skin either of the pets that day.  But in the grand tradition of holiday indulgence, it seems that one is never enough...