Today we had the traditional Easter egg hunt with our daughters ages 14 and 20 (almost). I swear, I'm going to be hiding eggs for these girls when I'm 82.
I didn't feel like going out the storage container at midnight to search for their Easter baskets so I used a couple of wooden cherry baskets I had in the hall closet. They're really too small for Easter baskets but that's all I had. I managed to get all their goodies in the baskets but didn't have enough room for the Peeps. I got a couple of bamboo skewers from the kitchen and made Peep-kabobs and stuck them in the baskets. The girls appreciated my ingenuity.
I got each of them a tiny stuffed bunny. We're talking 99 cent cheapo bunnies. Paige's bunny started falling apart almost immediately. Instead of stitching it back up she decided she wanted burn it up in the barbeque, which I guess was appropriate because she had stuck her Peep skewer into the bunny. We took it outside and gently and reverently placed it in the barbeque. Jim doused it with what I thought was a bit too much gasoline and handed Paige the lighter. Her decision to chicken out was correct. Can you say "conflagration"? It was hard to get close enough to look at it. After it lost its bunny shape it looked like an angry, burning alien and it smelled like a whole package of burning foam cups.
Now the girls are out with their boyfriends and Jim and I are here having a lazy day. Maybe I'll go out and plant something. Gotta use up those sixpacks.
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