Operation: Covert Rabbit
Sunday, 16 April, 2006: 0800 hours PST.
The house is silent. The start of operations delayed due to middle-of-the-night sleep interruptions (coughing ten-year old, wee-weeing two-year old), I rouse myself by imagining the coffee pot has been set and the delicious brew awaits my glugging. Cruel, cruel hoax... No coffee awaits. Neither do I have a clean house nor a diligent butler named, "Samuel." Forced to clean the previous days grounds out of the filter, I set my java in motion and get down to Operation: Covert Rabbit.
Quietly (READ: When the reverberations of the apocalyptic art closet door-opening crash have died down), I rescue the 3 brightly-colored wicker baskets from the closet, where they have been patiently waiting-- still filled with last year's straggling Easter grass--beneath several boxes, gift bags, wrapping paper and the remains of Mission: San Diego. (Damn that never-ending project!!) I sneak back into headquarters (aka, my bedroom), somehow evading the ever-watchful gaze of the two-year old hallway sentry, and begin filling said baskets with all manner of goodies.
Fool of a procrastinator that I am, I find myself staring down the clock, stuffing plastic eggs and waiting for the sentry to begin her morning rounds. Only this year, the restock of plastic eggs I'd procurred are apparently the secret funny gag kind, the ones that never FREAKIN' CLOSE. The lids don't fit, some are bent or just plain crooked, and over half absolutely refuse to reattach with their mate. Additionally, in my effort to reduce the amount of sugar in my kids' baskets this year, I find that I have drastically under-stocked on jellybeans. There will only be just enough for the kids this year.
DAMN ME AND MY LOVE FOR JELLYBEANS!!!
0816 hours, the sentry has arisen and begun her steady call. "MOOOOMMMmmmYYY-- I AWAKE! I WAKE UP!!!!" I dash to settle sweet girl in front of the electronic babysitter before she alerts the rest of the household that the sun has risen. How I lucked into a late morning with her I will never know...
0817 hours, coffee in hand, I dash back headquarters, lock the door and scramble to get the rest of the shabby eggs closed. Gathering my freight together in my extra-fancy Target shopping bag, I hit the backyard with fury and a steady purpose: I have 1 minute to hide these eggs before the timekeep notices I have left her presence and comes looking for me. I run onto the lawn where -GAAAHHHH it's cold, I have no shoes and the dogs have left their own little eggs, if you will.
Moments later I am rushing about the yard-- still in my red, flannel doggie jammies which I have neatly accessorized with my black penny loafers (the only slip ons I had readily available)-- shovel in hand, scooping up the dog's Easter gifts.
Disposing of said gifts, 30 seconds remain in my egg planting quest. But what's this?? Joy, I tell you, pure JOY as I discover that the little eggs I so painstakingly filled have popped OPEN inside the bag, and I must refill each egg and manage to close the previously impossible closing ovum in the NEXT 26.2 SECONDS!
Let it be known that were Operation: Covert Rabbit an Olympic event, I'd be on the podium rocking out to the Star Spangled Banner.
I made it back into the house-- eggs in place, baskets concealed-- undetected. I even changed my clothes, put on sensible shoes, got the video camera ready and refilled my coffee-- all with time to spare.
MISSION: SUCCESS!
A good time had by all.
The house is silent. The start of operations delayed due to middle-of-the-night sleep interruptions (coughing ten-year old, wee-weeing two-year old), I rouse myself by imagining the coffee pot has been set and the delicious brew awaits my glugging. Cruel, cruel hoax... No coffee awaits. Neither do I have a clean house nor a diligent butler named, "Samuel." Forced to clean the previous days grounds out of the filter, I set my java in motion and get down to Operation: Covert Rabbit.
Quietly (READ: When the reverberations of the apocalyptic art closet door-opening crash have died down), I rescue the 3 brightly-colored wicker baskets from the closet, where they have been patiently waiting-- still filled with last year's straggling Easter grass--beneath several boxes, gift bags, wrapping paper and the remains of Mission: San Diego. (Damn that never-ending project!!) I sneak back into headquarters (aka, my bedroom), somehow evading the ever-watchful gaze of the two-year old hallway sentry, and begin filling said baskets with all manner of goodies.
Fool of a procrastinator that I am, I find myself staring down the clock, stuffing plastic eggs and waiting for the sentry to begin her morning rounds. Only this year, the restock of plastic eggs I'd procurred are apparently the secret funny gag kind, the ones that never FREAKIN' CLOSE. The lids don't fit, some are bent or just plain crooked, and over half absolutely refuse to reattach with their mate. Additionally, in my effort to reduce the amount of sugar in my kids' baskets this year, I find that I have drastically under-stocked on jellybeans. There will only be just enough for the kids this year.
DAMN ME AND MY LOVE FOR JELLYBEANS!!!
0816 hours, the sentry has arisen and begun her steady call. "MOOOOMMMmmmYYY-- I AWAKE! I WAKE UP!!!!" I dash to settle sweet girl in front of the electronic babysitter before she alerts the rest of the household that the sun has risen. How I lucked into a late morning with her I will never know...
0817 hours, coffee in hand, I dash back headquarters, lock the door and scramble to get the rest of the shabby eggs closed. Gathering my freight together in my extra-fancy Target shopping bag, I hit the backyard with fury and a steady purpose: I have 1 minute to hide these eggs before the timekeep notices I have left her presence and comes looking for me. I run onto the lawn where -GAAAHHHH it's cold, I have no shoes and the dogs have left their own little eggs, if you will.
Moments later I am rushing about the yard-- still in my red, flannel doggie jammies which I have neatly accessorized with my black penny loafers (the only slip ons I had readily available)-- shovel in hand, scooping up the dog's Easter gifts.
Disposing of said gifts, 30 seconds remain in my egg planting quest. But what's this?? Joy, I tell you, pure JOY as I discover that the little eggs I so painstakingly filled have popped OPEN inside the bag, and I must refill each egg and manage to close the previously impossible closing ovum in the NEXT 26.2 SECONDS!
Let it be known that were Operation: Covert Rabbit an Olympic event, I'd be on the podium rocking out to the Star Spangled Banner.
I made it back into the house-- eggs in place, baskets concealed-- undetected. I even changed my clothes, put on sensible shoes, got the video camera ready and refilled my coffee-- all with time to spare.
MISSION: SUCCESS!
A good time had by all.
posted by @traciAWESOME
2 Comments:
Hahahh, I can't stop laughing. So much fun!
At least you remembered.
I woke up, made the coffee, sat about and then went 'OH SHIT.'
I then ran to the garage and got it together and set it on the table. (we hide eggs later in the day.)
Seriously though, great post. I envy your master writing craftsman skill!
HA! YES! ENVY ME, THE WOMAN WHO CLEANS DOG MESS FASTER THAN ANY OTHER!!!
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