Saturday, April 07, 2007 the darkened, nightmarish corner of my scarred mind

Did I ever tell you I used to be terrified of the Easter Bunny? Not rabbits in general (though I never had a great fondness for Beatrix Potter either) ,just the Easter Bunny. This is the only known photographic evidence that I could find, but as you can see--I would not go near the bunny. Conejito y Yo? No. Granted, I was three. And the bunny was inflatable and ever so slightly resembled that monster in Donnie Darko. I can actually faintly remember this photo being taken. I was hysterical and completely petrified to be standing so close to the Evil Bunny of DEATH. Good times.

Easter was always pretty hit or miss at our house. On the one hand, our mother made kick-ass Easter Baskets, a tradition she continued til I was 32 when she mysteriously stopped. I can only guess that it had something to do with when I finally told her how disgusting I think Peeps are. (I'm sorry but they are dried marshmellows with a crystalline dusting of off-tasting sugar: Nasty.)

On the other hand, another one of my mom's great Easter traditions was the Easter Family Picnic. She had it in her head that no matter what, we had a picnic for Easter lunch. Some years, it was great--80 degrees, sun shining--we played kickball for hours and took hikes on Pinnacle Mountain. Other years it was 34 degrees with a sleet/hail mixture pummeling us as we shivered, huddled together underneath a lone thin blanket staring balefully at the bucket of fried chicken so cold the grease had solidified at the bottom. Did the ice forming on the deviled eggs ever stop her? No. No, it didn't. Every year the Easter Picnic went on as scheduled. She was the friggin' US Postal Worker of Easter Picnics. (rain, sleet, snow, dead of night...)

I guess that's why when the rain started today and the temperature dropped 45 degrees, I got a little nostalgic. This is classic Mom Easter Picnic Weather--all that's missing is a concrete picnic bench so cold you can't feel your tush for days. I have half a mind to bundle up, grab some chicken and head on over to Zilker. But the other half (the sane half) will probably stay tucked in on the couch, watching Harvey and making hot cocoa with marshmellows...but not Peeps.

No comments: