“I don’t really believe in the Easter Bunny anymore,” said Domino a few weeks ago.
“Phew, no more Easter egg hunts, this bunny is tired.” I was not in the least mourning the loss of my last child’s innocence. I was delighted in not having to hide any more eggs. After nineteen years, this bunny was ready for retirement.
“Oh no, we still have to have a hunt and in fact I was thinking maybe this year Conrad and I can have a hunt before the hunt.”
For the nineteenth year in a row we invited friends, family, and our little local community school to join us in racing across the sandy garden in search of squished chocolate and rabbit ears.
Only a few years ago did we realize it’s a much less exhausting morning when Bull Shots, Bloody Marys, and Pimm’s are served.
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