Apr 8, 2007
I can't believe all these years have gone by and now my kids are coloring eggs with their own kids.
Holidays, whilst married to Sonny, were not always traditional but I will say he tried. We always had a big meal, which of course was a good excuse for him to eat like he was going to the Electric Chair but...other things didn't always go so smoothly and I'll never forget, "The Egg Incident."
We sat around the kitchen table coloring eggs with the kids. Sonny (the ex-husband), not wishing to waste a good Saturday nite on sobriety, was knee deep in some Mad Dog wine. We had fun with the kids and then put them to bed. I had to put the Easter baskets together, you know the big ass chocolate bunny, jelly beans, peeps and what not. Sonny decided to hide all the eggs. Now, we'd done a dozen and a half and had a pack of plastic eggs to put change in. He hid them and I was busy with the baskets, I didn't watch him or where he put them.
The next morning, the kids woke early, bouncing off the walls and wanting to search for the eggs. Wam was probably 4 years old, so Sonny had tried to make it easy to find a few but...
One egg was not recovered, one of the real ones. We looked everywhere, to no avail. He'd been too drunk to recall where he'd hid it and eventually, I'd forgot about it. I guess two months went by and we began the big move. I was taking the dining room table apart. It was one of those 60's laminated tables and it had metal legs that I had to unscrew. I took the first leg off and laid it on the floor. All this stuff came rolling out, as it did with every single leg. There were hundreds of dried peas and carrots, even corn and now I knew those little bastards weren't eating their vegetables, they had been stuffing them into the small hole in the legs of the table. So, we loaded the table and then next was the couch. Sonny and I carried it out and when we came back, Wam had found the missing egg. Just as I walked in the door, I watched him handing it off to my other son, Bill. They dropped it, OMG, all this black funky powder came out and it smelled rotten. Enough time had passed, where it was not so bad but if they'd found it a month before and dropped it, it'd be a whole other story. I guess the moral of the story is never allow an inebriated asshole to play the Easter bunny and hide eggs. Better yet, never have sex with a man who drinks Mad Dog or whiskey cause it might be the only reason you stay with them, you know the good sex which will lead to many terrible stories of trauma and egg loss. Better yet, maybe just stop dating, never have children, thus avoiding ever meeting anybody remotely like Sonny or ever having to hide eggs. You won't have the worries of putting Big Wheels together Christmas Eve, only to have pieces missing or ungrateful lil' shits who don't like the flannel shirts or velcro shoes with Power Rangers on 'em. Don't do what I did but do have a good Easter!