Real style, real grace, real humor from a real redneck.
Friday, April 6, 2012
Here Comes Peter Cottontail
As Easter approaches I can't help but recall some of my favorite Easter memories as a child. Painting Easter eggs, going on thrilling egg huts, waking up early on Easter morning to see what the Easter bunny left me in my basket, and then putting on a fancy new dress for church. But my all time favorite Easter memories are those of my college years. Easter always fell over spring break, and all of my friends were home from college. A group of us would get together every year and go bunny huntin'. Now this was an annual event folks, and something not for the faint of heart.
We would drive around town at night in search of tacky Easter decorations much like the house pictured above. Then we would park the car up the street, get into full stealth mode, creep into the yard or onto the porch, and steal the plastic Easter bunnies. Of course we would then laugh until we peed our pants. Off we would go in search of more Griswold decor. Why would we do such a stupid ass thing you ask????? Because we were fucking idiot college kids who thought we were bad asses really getting away with something. THANK GAWD, the statue of limitations has long since expired on larceny, theft, trespassing and any other related crimes.
Now my strict Pennsylvania Dutch father did not really find the humor in this little stunt, especially since we stored all of the bunnies in my parents' basement. So, our little hellraiser gang decided that over summer break we would all get together and return the bunnies to their rightful owners with a little twist. We taped crazy notes on the rabbits before we returned them such as, "I'm sorry I was gone for so long, but I had to hop on over to my one true love". Or something like, "Peter Cottontail's gang kidnapped me and I couldn't hop my way back to you". Yeah, I know it was lame ass, but it still felt like we had the upper hand since we had to return the damn plastic Easter bunnies.
I gotta be straight up with ya though folks. Whenever I see somethin' that looks like that photo above, my hands start to sweat, my heart beats a little faster, and my mind goes back to those criminal days of old. It's just like an alcoholic walkin' into a bar. I fall off the wagon. I wanna reach out and grab one of those plastic suckers just 'cause I can, and laugh my ass off all the way down the bunny trail.