No Broken Bones This Year!

The violent Easter egg hunt went pretty smoothly this year. Furniture was overturned, sofa cushions were thrown about, and (adult) kids were shoved aside (by each other).

Mason helped me hide the big, stuffed egg this year. He was sitting on the sofa and it was in the back of his shorts. Zach asked Mason to get up so he could look under the sofa cushions. Mason refused. So, Zach picked him up and, when he did, he felt a fat, cushy thing on Mason’s butt. That was the first accidental discovery of the big golden egg!

The other, smaller golden eggs were filled with $1 bills and lottery tickets. We always count them to ensure none are left unfound. It took the kids FOREVER to find the very last egg! It was in the bathroom and they were all squeezed in there, trying to figure it out. I had to give several hints and I was laughing so hard! It wasn’t in the cabinets, nor the toilet, nor the shower, nor the ceiling, nor the garbage can. There were a couple of towels on the floor and two socks that Frank had removed when he got home from work that afternoon. Mason was the one who FINALLY found the last egg. It was in Frank’s dirty sock. I guess nobody else had the courage to touch that sock!!

The Easter Bunny brought Mason a gun that shoots plastic balls (about the size of a tennis ball). Frank took possession of that darned gun, and was shooting everyone. Nobody could get it away from him. After he shot his girlfriend, Chelce, in the back at close range, she instinctively turned aroundand kicked him with her dainty foot and he WENT DOWN for the count!

FrankIsDownsm
It was so funny! Everyone agreed he deserved it. It took him about five minutes to crawl to the sofa, and another 10 minutes to recover completely after that (which gave us enough time to hide that gun). Chelce was very apologetic, of course and even Frank laughed – after he recovered, of course. (Notice the sofa cushions on the floor from the violent egg hunt.)

THIS WEEK’S MASONISM

After seeing “Rabbit” written in second-grader handwriting on the Easter menu, I asked, “Mason, did you add Rabbit to the menu on the fridge for Easter?”

He replied, “Yes. Why?”

Surprised and a bit disturbed, I asked, “Are you planning to eat the Easter Bunny, honey?!”

He sighed, and said, “Of course not, Mom. I’m planning to eat one of his relatives.”


Angela Hoy lives on a mountain in North Georgia. She is the publisher of WritersWeekly.com, the President and CEO of BookLocker.com and AbuzzPress, and the author of 24 books.

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