It never ceases to amaze me how, in hindsight, I can find humor in the strangest places. Dead hamsters in freezers, bones jutting out of legs, parents who make you cry, allergic reactions to drug combina—oh? What’s that you say? I haven’t told you that one? Oh, well—
Easter was quickly advancing. It was the “family holiday” that was held at my house, since I had the vastness of space required for egg hunts. (Now ex)-husband’s family was of the Immaculate-Housekeeping religion, so I spent weeks tidying up the ranchette. And, as luck would have it, I got sick a week before D-day – oops, I mean Easter. Finally, I dragged my hacking body to the outpatient clinic on Good Friday, which turned out to be one of those oxymorons. The wise doctor (also oxymoron) gave me a prescription for Seldane (antihistamine/decongestant) and Erythromycin…..
Saturday morning broke with a frenzy – only 24 hours before the horde – oops guests – arrived. Frantically I scoured the bathroom floor. As I stood, I realized that my ankles were stiff, and so were my hands. “Hmm,” I thought, “Interesting….Ve-rrrrry Interesting.” But time was a-wasting! Carry on McDuff! To the other Loo!
It was while scrubbing the toilet that I realized I was having difficulty swallowing. As I stood and looked in the mirror, I noticed that my eyes were puffy….I tried to take a step closer….and realized that the soles of my feet felt like they were on fire.
“Honey? Something’s wrong. Can you bring me the phone?”
“Aw, can’t ya’ get it yourself? I’m on the computer.”
(yes, ex-husband was charmingly sweet)
I realized that I was having an allergic reaction, so I called the clinic.
“I think I’m having an allergic reaction. My hands and feet are tingly and swollen. My eyes are puffy and my throat feels like it’s closing shut.”
“Are you having trouble breathing?”
“Duh! I have bronchitis! Of course I’m having trouble! What should I do?”
“Well, ahhh, the doctors have left. Take some Benedryl and if you’re still having difficulty breathing you should go to the Emergency Room.”
As I hate hospitals…..I chugged Benedryl. Body effects seemed to halt their growth, but weren’t reversing. So, in an effort to help hasten my recovery, I went to sleep on the couch…..”
As I groggily open my eyes, I am greeted by the anxious sad face of Erynn (approx 4-5yrs), with tears brimming in her eyes.
“Yes baby, what is it?””Oh Mommy, the Easter Bunny didn’t come….I guess I was bad, huh?”
A big fat tear plinked out of her eye and rolled down her cheek. “Bad Mommy, Bad Mommy,” I scolded internally. “Think fast, think fast—“
“Oh baby – I’m sure the Easter Bunny was here. Maybe he hid your basket. Why don’t you go check up on the road by the mailbox?”
Her eyes brightened, and she lit out the door. “Gotta hurry! Bad Mommy! What were you thinking—“ I berated myself.
Leaping off the couch, I found the soles of my feet still felt like they had daggers in them. But it didn’t matter – my baby needed her basket. With a combination of hobbling, screaming and crying, I made my way to the kitchen, threw her basket together (all items were ready to go, just had not had time to assemble), and frantically tried to think where I could hide said basket. Looking out the front window, I saw that Erynn had scoured the road, and, finding no basket, had begun her journey back to the house.
Eureka! I thought of the perfect place in the backyard, and again, with the combination of hobbling, screaming and crying made my way to it, hid the basket and hurried back in.
Just in the nick of time! Erynn came through the door with a dejected, “No, Mommy…it wasn’t there.”
“Baby, remember that family of rabbits we saw hopping around last week? Maybe the Easter Bunny came to visit them. Where did you and your Dad see them go?”
“The wood pile!” she screeched and rushed out the back door.
Yes, there in the woodpile, next to the Rabbit famly den, was the basket, left by the Easter Bunny.
For the next 4 years, the Easter Bunny got up early on Easter morning to hide Erynn’s basket….next to the Rabbit family den…..in the wood pile.