easter sunday. wake up at 8 am, with a pounding i-shouldn't-have-had-those-last-twelve-glasses-of-champagne headache and that nauseous i-shouldn't-have-eaten-that-unidentified-moroccan-dish-since-my-stomach-is-only-accustomed
to-meat-approved-by-the-FDA feeling.
i run into the closet and dig out the custom easter baskets i made for bryan and jersey. i am very excited, it's jersey's first easter with us, and probably the first really nice basket i've put together for mr. peters. usually i buy him a chocolate bunny that's on walgreen's clearance shelf and call it a day.
"wake up sleepyheads! happy easter!"
(bryan translation: "happy just another pagan holiday that sarah drags me out of bed and into creased slacks and pastel tie and hands me my dusty bible holiday!" or JAPHTSDMOOBAICSAPTAHMMDB for short. but for the sake of the sarah-is-right theory, we'll continue calling it easter.
nothing. jersey opens one eye, and quickly shuts it as she realizes she isn't under the covers and the sun-MY GOD THE SUN-is shining brightly in the bedroom. since her usual wakeup time is 4 pm, she thinks i have lost my freakin' mind.
"hey you two! it's easter morning! and i got you guys some goodies!"
i am hopelessly trying to recreate the excitement that we had as kids on easter morning - almost as crazy as christmas morning - considering my mom uses any american holiday as an excuse to adorn her two wonderful children with gifts galore. i think one easter i got diamonds.
still nothing. chevy wanders out of her usual hiding place, and looks at me expectantly. she's the only one that appreciates me around here. i had it all - a faithful cat - and i had to go out and get these two. had to mess up a good thing.
maybe bryan is dead. which wouldn't be so bad - more candy for me.
"HEY! wake up!"
"Bryan! Jersey! I got you guys baskets! I made them myself!"
okay, this is getting old. and frankly, i'm starting to get a little annoyed. tears well up in my eyes as i remember the countless minutes hours i spent throwing meticulously placing the items in each basket, so that their eyes would see each individual treat, yet not be able to focus on one item at once, creating that my-god-it's-beautiful glaze in their eyes.
bryan hasn't moved even a little. he's probably dreaming about jessica alba, or pamela anderson, or jaime pressley. and maybe i'm a little too knowledgeable about bryan's top-5 list. whatever. the bastard is dreaming about some other chick, while i am slaving over a hot stove and caring for our 8 children. or maybe i was playing free cell and watching the real world. i can't remember.
that's IT. mom is mad, and gosh darnit they are gonna wake up, look at their baskets, play with every toy and eat every treat and we're gonna enjoy a nice easter morning together if it's the last f*cking thing we do!!!
happy easter everyone.