Our ludicrously late Easter Bunny

A fitting image, given how late our Easter Bunny was with the eggs this year.

This past Monday, the day after Easter, just before walking to pick up the kids from preschool, I shoved chocolate kisses and eggs into plastic eggs and walked around our front- and backyard, hurriedly placing them near just-blooming flowers, trees, the trampoline – everywhere.

Why? Because even though I’d been patting myself on the back Saturday evening – I’d picked up a few dollar items from Target days earlier in order to make modest Easter baskets for both Lily and Neve – the girls awoke on Sunday morning, and after seeing the baskets, Lily excitedly said, “We have to find the eggs the Easter Bunny hid!”

A stomach-plummeting, “oh, sh*t” parenting moment, to say the least.

“Uh, I don’t know,” I said, looking across the kitchen at Joe, who grimaced. “I don’t think I’ve seen any eggs this morning. Maybe the Easter Bunny hasn’t had the chance to hide eggs here yet. He’s got lots and lots of baskets to deliver.”

Lily looked puzzled, and I understood why. Not the best quick-on-your-feet explanation, Mom.