My kids are skeptics when it comes to holidays with XXL sized animals or even humans in velvet and patent leather outfits leaving them unearned gifts in the night. This breaks my heart. Aside from the fact that their disbelief means that they are getting older, which in turn means that I am therefore getting older as well, I really hate to see the end of their childlike wonder at the mystical and magical events of childhood.
This disappoints me mainly because, despite my hard assed nature, I am a child at heart. (this could explain many, many things if you think about it) I love the excitement, the anticipation, the wonder, that little bit of angst about whether it will really happen and the extreme relief and renewed belief that comes when it does happen.
So, in order to drag it out for just a bit longer, purely in self interest I assure you, I devised a plan. We would trap the Easter Bunny in mid-delivery. THAT would prove to them that said bunny really existed! We set up a “string with noisy stuff attached to it” trap. The bunny would get all caught up in it and we would have his fluffy ass!
I get all tingly just thinking about it! They were skeptical but I kept them going. By the time I got done they were all vigilantied up and everything. They were all ready to make Easter Bunny lined bedroom slippers if we got him.
Come Easter morning, what they got was an Easter basket filled with all kinds of yummy edibles, cool toys, and this broken Easter egg that ( I explained) the Easter Bunny must have dropped while making his extremely skillful escape! They didn’t care one whit that he escaped. They loved the chase, they loved the baskets, they ate candy till their momma spit up, and it was all good.
The picture is actually DeeDee’s new babies. Put your ears on because I’m just about to ring my own bell here. Her second baby was stuck. She was exhausted with pushing and nothing was happening. I was very worried about her so I decided to assist. I pulled the stuck puppy a little bit and it popped lose and she was able to push it out the rest of the way by herself. But she was remarkably uninterested in it. She literally turned her back on it. She wouldn’t pull the caul off of it or anything. I knew that it only had a little bit of time before it would be too late so I took the caul off myself. I put it in front of her and she finally chewed off the umbilical cord, but that was all she would do. She refused it. It wasn’t breathing. I picked it up and gave it baby puppy CPR. When it started breathing on its own I wrapped it in a cloth and took it to the other room and fed it warm sugar milk. It loved that and when I decided that it had had enough, it started to cry. DeeDee came running into the room and took her out of my hands, back to the birthing box, and has kept her and taken care of her ever since. (DING DING DING)<——–My own bell ringing.
I named her Ditto. The runt is a boy and his name is Dash. The largest and last puppy born was also a girl and her name is Dot. I had a thing for D’s that day. In the top picture, from the left is Dot, Ditto and Dash.
Everyone who sees the pictures of them tells Rocky and me that we have way too much time on our hands. HA! Not even! But it was fun and we had a good time with it.
Now I’m on chocolate overload……one of my favorite states of all time. It’s my version of legal speed. I like to take a hit about an hour before bedtime because the crash is a cheap and happy substitute for sleeping pills. Win-Win. The only possible drawback is the odd dreams I sometimes have of Willy Wonka. But I don’t know you well enough to tell you about those.
Sigh. I love holidays that involve XXL animals that bring unearned gifts in the night!