Easter Fun

It starts just before seven in the morning, the sound of tiny feet scurrying down the corridor and throwing the curtain back from our door (we have yet to fit doors and a curtain affords as much privacy as a bolted door would do to a chocolate mad child). Yells of 'Happy Easter' are met with sleepy grunts and, 'Oh my God, what time is it?' This is quickly followed up with, 'Come back in an hour, make that ninety minutes'. Ten minutes later he is back, still excited, asking if it is after eight yet. We tell him more forcefully to bugger off but he decides to get in bed with us and talk about God, the Easter Bunny and chocolate, and why does it all fit together? Questions flow that not even the late Stephen Hawking could have answered at seven-ten in the morning: 'Did Christ like chocolate?', 'Did the Easter Bunny get crucified by Romans too?', 'Did the Romans crucify you for eating their chocolate?' and, when has asks, 'Why didn't God stop them?' we are out the curtain and brushing our teeth in the bathroom. We tell D that all his questions would be an ecumenical matter and to ask Reverend John when he sees him next. We bet John can't wait, we have seen him go pale as the holy ghost when D is asking questions about God and Lego. So, we trudge downstairs, yawning, the pied piper of chocolate madness dancing around us.


He won't even consider get changed out of his pyjamas, he knows the Easter Bunny has been and he wants to see what is going on.

Child laughing

He is somewhat excited to see that he will be doing an Easter Egg Hunt and that the eggs are somewhere in either the family room or kitchen. We did ask the Easter Bunny to hide some upstairs, preferably with hard to find clues that would afford us at least ninety more minutes in bed. This request was ignored. There will be stern letter winging its way to that bloody bunny's home.

Easter hunt

There's twelve eggs to find, one for each disciple - not really, it just worked out lucky like that - the bunny even hid one of the clues in a balloon full of confetti; it makes for a wonderful photograph but it's a bugger to hoover up. Beware of those people who blog and make their lives look wonderful, what you don't see, but do with us, is the painstaking moment that the hoover clogs up, over heats, turns off and you spend the next hour on your knees sweeping up confetti and muttering where you'd shove the hoover attachments if the Easter Bunny does that again.


There are small chocolate eggs to share, before any real food, or drink, or something to wake us up. As we proceed to hunt, we munch and Carol states she hated these small eggs as a child, because of the texture, but she's willing to try them again. As she starts to chomp on one D tells her the nickname we have for these small eggs, we call them pigeon testicles - it's childish, amazingly funny and sends Carol green as she tries to eat one she has in her mouth. It somehow makes it all more funny. It is April Fool's Day too.


We soon have letters building up to the final clue, we'd like to say that D got the clue straightaway but by this time he's flying high on chocolate, sugar and having laughed so much at Mummy turning green at pigeon testicles that he's bumping into anything and everything as he hunts for the remaining letters.


There is carnage on our rug, the confetti is everywhere, in our hair, down our tops, all over the kitchen because D is trekking it where ever he goes. It's at this point that we find we have mice again, the trap is empty and we are grateful we didn't put the chocolate out last night. A mischievous Easter Bunny is funny, nibbled chocolate isn't. This is the downside of rural life.


Finally, the sugar rush abates and we start to find out what the clue is, your barred becomes a quick favourite, though it misses out some of the letters. Soon, D discovers 'your' is definitely part of the clue, as in your the milkman's. Again, that doesn't use all the letters and even invents some that are not in the clue. We have YOUR, and then D-R-O-B-E and W-A-R-D, a real headscratcher for D as we wait for the penny to drop. 

Word search

There are moments of anguish as he really tries to figure out what words D-R-O-B-E and W-A-R-D can make. No use shouting, it only gets this look.


 Then he gets it, hallejuah! WARDROBE. YOUR WARDROBE.

Word clue

We have never seen him move so fast, maybe it is the chocolate, it certainly isn't sporting prowess. The only time he won a race is when we stood by the finish post with a chocolate bar. We are still apologising to parents whose children he trampled. There is a distant screech, a thud, a crash and a few seconds later he reappears with a basket and telling us all what a naughty Easter Bunny we've had in the house.

Easter hamper

Ripped paper is added to the confetti. Remember that this basket is for all of us and D knows that.


Easter Bunny

Thankfully there is something for Mummy and Daddy in the box. We'd like to put gin in there but that would send out powerful bad parenting messages because parents don't drink. Yeah, you think that and we'll be cracking open something strong this evening as we look at the chaos that is the family room strewn with chocolate wrappers, pigeon testicles and confetti. 

Great chocolate

Before that though we have our Easter Bunny breakfast of bacon ears, scrambled egg cheeks, sausage patty nose and salad teeth. 


On our Easter table there where chocolate toffee poppets - our joke at rabbit poo - that seemed to have all vanished into D who is bouncing around in his chair doing an Easter rap.


So, we bid you farewell once more Easter Sunday, and remind everyone to eat chocolate sensibly and to unwrap it before you cram it in your mouth like D is doing on this final photo.

Life on Pig Row


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