Chapter 21 #2
“Okay, everyone gather around the Easter Bunny!” the photographer calls out cheerfully, oblivious to the fact that the kids have taken one look at Wiley’s costume and decided this is their personal horror movie moment.
“Come on, sweethearts,” Mom encourages, holding Lyla Nell’s hand—or more to the point, dragging her in his direction. “Say hello to the nice Easter Bunny!”
More shrieks and screams let loose, and it sounds as if an Easter Sunday massacre is taking place.
“Maybe they should say goodbye to the Easter Bunny.” Noah sighs as Ozzy and Corbin start wailing in perfect harmony with their sister.
“Maybe they’ll want to stay if we bribe them with chocolate?” Everett suggests, although he’s already reaching for the twins with the efficiency of someone who’s learned that parental damage control requires quick reflexes.
“Or we could just accept that the kids in our family have excellent survival instincts,” I point out, because honestly, a giant rabbit approaching small children is legitimately terrifying.
“Look at those kids run,” Carlotta shouts with glee. “It’s like watching a nature documentary, except instead of gazelles fleeing a lion, the predator is wearing polyester and smells like mothballs.”
“Carlotta,” Lainey warns. “They’re children, not wildlife.”
“Same difference,” Carlotta shoots back. “Both species run in packs, scream at anything and everything, both require constant feeding, and both will trample you in a stampede. Plus, both will bite you if cornered. The only difference is you can’t legally tranquilize children, just yet.”
The photographer tries to salvage the situation. “Maybe if the bunny sits down and looks less intimidating?”
Wiley attempts to crouch, which only makes him look like a giant rabbit preparing to pounce. This escalates the screaming to new levels of terror.
“Bunny or no bunny,” Meg sighs, trying to soothe Piper whose first Easter will also go down in history as her first trauma. “I don’t think this is working.”
“You think?” Keelie asks, watching Bear attempt to climb the nearest tree to escape the bunny threat. He really is living up to his name in that respect.
“Come on, kids!” Mom calls out with grandmotherly determination. “It’s just Grandpa Wiley! He’s here to give you Easter treats! Lots and lots of chocolate! Who doesn’t like chocolate?”
Out of the blue, Lyla Nell marches right up to the Easter Bunny and punches him squarely in his giant pink nose. Nice to see she’s already a protective older sister.
“Now that’s problem-solving,” Everett says with a tick of his head.
“Direct, effective, minimal collateral damage,” Noah agrees. “Textbook.”
I blink their way. “You two realize you’re praising a two-year-old for punching your father, right?”
“Technically, she’s defending her siblings from a perceived threat,” Everett says.
“And doing it better than most adults,” Noah adds.
“Ow!” Wiley yelps from inside his bunny costume as he stumbles backward. “That actually hurt!”
“Lyla Nell,” I gasp, although I have to agree with Noah and Everett. Her solution was probably the most direct approach to the problem.
“Well, at least someone in this family knows how to handle a threatening situation.” Carlotta offers up a smug smile. “That’s my Little Yip Yip!”
“Our daughter just assaulted the Easter Bunny,” Everett points out with the flat tone of someone whose life has reached new levels of surreal chaos.
“In self-defense,” Carlotta corrects. “Little Yippy was completely justified. Plus, that little skill will come in handy when she starts dating.”
“Duly noted,” Noah says more than a little approvingly.
Lyla Nell looks up at me, and her lower lip begins a dangerous quiver, and just like that, she starts in on another high-pitched wail. Probably because hitting the Easter Bunny didn’t make him disappear and instead made him make weird noises.
“Oh dear, come to Glam Glam!” Mom announces, swooping in with her Glam Glam superpowers to scoop up the sobbing babe. She kisses Lyla Nell on the cheek and then, in the middle of all this chaos, shouts with authority that would make a church pastor proud, “He is Risen!”
A chorus of “He is Risen indeed!” echoes back from families throughout the festival area, including several teary-eyed children who momentarily stop crying to participate in the call-and-response.
“Well, that was unexpectedly spiritual,” Meg says.
“Leave it to Mom to turn Easter Bunny trauma into a religious moment,” Lainey adds with a touch of admiration.
“Glam Glam has an Easter basket for each of you!” My mother has never been above bribery with sugar. “But first, who would like a chocolate bunny?”
Case in point.
Josie, Bear, and Lyla Nell go from inconsolable grief to jumping with unbridled enthusiasm in approximately three seconds.
“Me, me, me!” they shout with joy as if they’ve just discovered that chocolate fixes everything, including bunny-related psychological trauma.
“And that,” Keelie says with a laugh, “is why we always bring backup chocolate.”
“I’ll say,” I grunt. “The resulting photo will either become a treasured family keepsake or evidence in future therapy sessions,” I mutter, watching the photographer somehow manage to capture a shot of our entire family looking like we’ve just survived a natural disaster.
“My money is on therapy,” Charlie says with a grin.
Sadly, my money is on that, too.