Saturday, April 7, 2012

Easter Sunday

Yes, I came home for Easter weekend. That still means searching for our Easter baskets early Easter Sunday, despite being 22 years old. Does your family do that? Every year, my dad - ahem, the EASTER BUNNY - hides our baskets. One year when I was about 8, he forgot where he hid mine and I could not find it anywhere. I begged and cried and pleaded for him to tell me where he hid it.

"I didn't hide your basket," he told me. "The Easter Bunny did."

I knew this to be false. I don't ever remember believing in Santa, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy, or any of those other mystical creatures - I suppose I was just too realistic a child (this somehow didn't stop me from having multiple imaginary friends...)

Anyway, it eventually came out that my dad completely forgot where he hid my basket. For the life of him, he could not remember where he put the dag thing.

Four months later, it turned up. When we were renovating our fireplace. All sooty and dusty and old, out popped four-month old candies brightly wrapped in Easter colors.

"I knew we'd find it. Eventually," My dad told me.

Needless to say, the whole thing went in the trash.

Did this dredge up any fun Easter memories for you?

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