See that? That's called a half-moon. Yeah, I know it's got a more formal name like "Being in the Waning Gibbous Phase," or whatever. But the point is, that's what was above my head as I distributed 48 filled plastic Easter eggs in the backyard. This moon helped me confirm that there were no snakes as I wandered otherwise blindly through the grass. It's entirely too cold for the snakes to leave their cozy nests - as I tossed those eggs out, each one hit the frozen ground with a loud POP. Aside from the eerie sound of some owl hooting in a nearby yard, that was it. POP... POP... POP... HooooooooOOOOOOoooo... POP ... POP...
I just went back and read my post about last Easter (here), and the experience has been remarkably similar. No Anakin pogs this year, though. Just candy. (A buttload of Peeps, to be precise - they squash right into plastic eggs.)
And though I woke up early this year in order to be the Easter bunny, I once again fell into not-quite-nightmares about being busted by the kids as I stood out in the yard. It wouldn't be a nightmare if they did bust me, it was just that there were Nazguls in the dream, and also flan. (shuddering... FLAAAAHN.)
So here I am, flan-free and waiting for the coffee to finish percolating. After being out in such cold weather, even if only for a few moments, there's no way to get back to bed now. I'm UP, man. The weather site says it's 25 degrees right now, and that it feels like it's 25 degrees. And I'll take their word for it - anything lower than 40 and I can't discern.
Sean asked me yesterday if I thought he was stupid for still believing in the Easter bunny. This was a very interesting question for him to ask, because just a couple of weeks ago, he and his best friend were sitting in the kitchen talking about Easter. His friend told him, "Well the Easter bunny is sitting right there in the living room," and Sean laughed and said, "I know."
But did he? He's pretty good about covering his ignorance with a casual "I know." Now he's going to be nine in a few weeks, but I'm pretty sure that even if he doesn't have full confidence in the existence of such enigmatic figures as the Easter bunny, Santa Claus and the Soul Cake Duck, he's still willing to hedge his bets for the pay-off.
So I told him that of course I didn't think he was stupid for believing in the Easter bunny, and he seemed slightly relieved. Hey, I personally believed in Santa Claus until I was eleven. It's not that my parents were that good at it, either. I just didn't take my head out of the clouds before then, even having heard the dark, whispered rumors at school...
Ah well. So tell me - what are your favorite (or worst) memories of your own Santa / Easter bunny / Tooth Fairy / whatever? And how did you learn the truth?