Kill the Wabbit

Easter for the disorganized:

So I put off shopping for Easter dinner because of the school holidays.  Who wants to drag two kids through the grocery store unnecessarily? 

Well, apparently I do.  So casual was my attitude toward preparations that I waited until Saturday afternoon to go to the supermarket.  

In the rain.  

With both kids.  

The day before Easter. 

Remember that scene in War of the Worlds when everyone was trying to get on the boat and the angry mob took Tom Cruise’s minivan?

It was kinda like that.

After dinner, it was time to decorate eggs.  I always like to do this about an hour before bedtime, otherwise it turns into a reexamination of each egg in order to add “just one more thing.”

I forgot to cook the eggs.

So needless to say, the kids were psyched that they got to stay up late (by about two hours,) while I tried to figure out how I was going to “flash refrigerate” the eggs so they wouldn’t have to decorate hot little spheres of pain.

Eggs done miraculously with no egg dye being spilled all over the table (this time.)  Put my little zombies to bed - maybe they’ll sleep late!

I sent Derek down to the cellar to get the kids baskets which I had purchased weeks before like an organized and well-planned person.  They were beach-themed: big colorful buckets with things like swim rings, goggles and monogrammed beach towels.  

They were also missing. 

We whisper-argued for a little while before I told him to find those Goddamn buckets or drive down to the 24-hour Walgreen’s for replacement baskets.

After lots of banging around in the basement, he found the buckets.  I am afraid to go down there now.  We arranged them just so, then I added the chocolate bunnies I had stashed.  He hid the eggs and went upstairs to pass out.

About five hours later (WTF?!) the kids woke us up to go downstairs.  We dragged ourselves to the living room while they hunted for eggs.  Success!  They found them all in no time.

All but one.

They looked around again, but still no egg.  Derek tried to re-trace his steps, because really, they were mostly hidden in plain sight.  But he was so blind from exhaustion when he hid them, he couldn’t remember them all.

After mainlining several cups of coffee, I started dinner.  As I was putting together my special sweet potato souffle, I realized that, ironically, we were out of eggs.  Off to find an open grocery store on Easter Sunday.

Dinner turned out lovely, and it was a beautiful spring day.  We never did find that last egg, but I think I have a feeling where it went:

Ozzy looooves eggs!

At least I'm keeping my fingers crossed...

Carpe Diem! (definitely tomorrow...)

I constantly tease Derek about his shameless procrastination.  "Wellllll, I can't really get to "X" until "Y" and "Z" happen."  What drives me bat-shit is, the thing that needs to happen first is always something I need to do, as in "I can't organize the basement until you go through everything."  To which my reply goes something like this, "I can't go through everything until the basement is better organized."  It's like the seventh circle of 'pass the buck.'  So the running joke is that Mars needs to be in retrograde, and all the planets aligned before "X" can be done (I am not an astronomy major.)  Only this time,  I'm the one waiting for the planets, and there's nobody to pass that buck to.

I've been tossing around the idea of starting a blog for a while now, mostly because I'm an incredibly interesting person, and I really should bestow my fabulousity on others...  Okay, not really.  I don't have any delusions of grandeur, but aspirations to mediocrity, in which I can get my kids to places on time, I actually cook dinner every night instead of asking the age-old question of "Who wants pizza?" and I don't feel (or at the very least, don't care if I feel) like I need to over-explain myself to most of the people I interact with.  I mean, why do I think it's necessary to explain to the girl at Starbucks that I'm buying an organic milk box because I ran out of juice boxes for Jack's lunch?  So I guess my reasoning is this:  I can slap together a decent sentence and misery loves company.

Anyway, when I was first setting this thing up, all these good topic ideas were swirling around my head.  I should write them down.  Nah, it's fine - I'm sure I'll remember (it is here that I'll confess to never remembering anything that I haven't written down EXCEPT my credit card number!)  So I'll settle down and get this page together so I can regale the internet with my wit and wisdom.  Except it's not that easy for my infected mind because I am now compelled to view every possible permutation of page design available.  Then fonts.  Then colors.  And what about placement?  Well, shit, now I've fallen down the rabbit hole.  

Well, my planets are finally aligned.  It is now two weeks later that I'm posting this, because I got it in my head that I really need to know everything right now.  My final epiphany came as I looked up at the clock at three o'clock this morning after spending the previous two and a half hours trying to put a Twitter button on my page. As it stands, that button is in a weird place, but it works, and I can't figure out how to relocate or even remove it, so there it will remain until I decide to investigate further - which may be never because it takes a long time to get over the trauma of getting your head stuck in that hole.