Posts Tagged ‘Holidays’

Drop the chocolate and back away slowly

Sunday, April 4th, 2010

By Tiber

This year, the Big-Time Bunny Run was held for Duncan and Honor’s 10 year-old triplets. They say they believe in it all but who knows if they’re telling the truth? They’d also swear in a court of law that Great-Grandma Noni is a kangaroo and only wears that apron to cover her pouch.

At least the weather had finally cleared enough to have the hunt outside and my other siblings, Kru, Vanessa, Iris Nell and Erin and I watched it unfold from my third floor balcony.

As stated in my previous post, Dad, since he claims to know the Easter Bunny personally and is one of his top ambassadors, just refers to him as “E.B.” And every year, Dad makes sure to remind any and all kids of “E.B’s Rule #1,” which states that any candy not found by the children on Easter morning automatically goes to the Dad.

Dad, however, never bargained on the triplets. I know that at times we’ve all wanted to bargain something for them but that’s another story.

Anyway, if twins are creepily psychic, triplets are even more so. In our day, we found most of the candy but it was only accomplished with a lot of false starts and crashing into things.

With the triplets, the mental ability is honed and lethal. Today was like watching a grade-school production of “Top Gun.” The three of them could “lock on” to candy stashes in a flash and if they even sensed an adult in the vicinity, potentially slowing them down, they’d bark out, “Bogey on my left! Bogey on my left! Permission to fire! Permission to fire!”

Dad, who’s only allowed to eat candy on holidays, was in a panic. The triplets were finding all of it. The old desperate measures were needed so Dad suddenly yelled out, “What if E.B. threw some candy down the old coal chute?”

The triplets were off to check it out, which, of course, would divert them to the other side of the house.

I had no idea that Mom could move that fast. It was bad enough that Cook had once pushed an assistant down the chute but there was no way Mom was allowing her grandkids near there.

She headed them off and it was just in time for everyone to see Dad grab the last candy stash (that had been hidden in the greenhouse) and take off into the woods with it.

The triplets shrieked and flew off after him. I think we all kind of said our goodbyes to Dad at that point. This had clearly turned into a production of “Lord Of the Flies”…“Lord of the Flies” sponsored by the Hershey Corporation.

The Big-Time Bunny Run

Thursday, April 1st, 2010

By Tiber

Well, here we are again, approaching Easter and what’s known around here as the Big-Time Bunny Run. 

Dad really gets into this, partly because, though Mom can’t keep him away from Cook’s desserts the rest of the year, she has made him promise to limit his candy intake to holidays only. 

And the Big-Time Bunny Run is one candy event.

Dad always told us he knew the Easter Bunny (or “E. B.,” as he calls him) personally and was one of his top ambassadors. That was why he knew all of the “E.B. rules.” First and foremost was the one stating, “any candy not found by the children on Easter morning reverts to the Dad.”

With this kind of pressure on the five of us kids, our path would look something like that of a plague of locusts, if your own personal locusts averaged 50 lbs. each and could lift furniture.

So, of course, “E.B. ” came up with harder and harder to find hiding places for the candy.

Dad would often end up saying things like, “Oh, what a shame. You guys didn’t see the bunny’s stash up here on the chandelier. Well, as per the rules, I guess it’s mine now. Go get me the ladder, Duncan.”

I remember there was another stash we missed locating because it had been buried outside under the hedgerow. Dad didn’t get this one either, though. Some woodland creature had dug up and carried off the contents before we were even up.

Annoyed, Dad yelled out into the forest, “That’s just going to make you sick, you know!”

Mom responded that the only sound she heard was that of animals totally enjoying some candy that should have gone to the children in the first place but at least now, thank you very much, was not being enjoyed by Dad.

My sister, Erin, came along years after the rest of us, which is why we’ve always referred to her as “the surprise package.” Duncan’s always called her “The Unexpected,” making her sound like her own horror movie.

When it was her time for the Big-Time Bunny Run, even hunting alone, she was the most adept of all.

She’s a little psychic and maybe she can also just smell candy better at 20 paces but, in any event, E. B. had to become even more creative about finding effective hiding places for the chocolate.

Some of the candy no one has ever found.

In the distant future, someone will trip on a throw rug and end up finding what, in our day, was a chocolate rooster with a bow. By then, though, it will look as if one of us strangled some sort of one-eyed ghoul with a pink string and then hid the body under a floorboard.