259
R. Linda:
Imagine me surprise when me wife informs me that we are going to an Easter egg hunt at the pre-school where our little Airport attends. Inside the teachers and parents are going to have a community Easter dinner, ham, turkey, mashed potatoes with gravy, cranberry sauce, glazed carrots, rolls, well you get the idea. Me first reaction to this news was instant shock that yours truly would be made once again to dress up in a bunny costume and you know once was more than enough. Well, it was related to me frozen brain that no such thing would befall me and I settled down and was told the parents would be putting candy in plastic eggs and it was me job to go and help in any way I could. I did have a partner to help me in this endeavour, one George Mason. Now George be like me, a laid back sort but don't put him in a Santa costume ever. He did his time as a dress up Santa, like I did mine as the Easter bunny. There are things we will do for the good of the kiddies, but dress up isn't one of them and never, oh please never, have us babysit because we don't have the patience, especially if food be around.
Very early this morning, I met George at the school. Mrs. Hucker (I know and we do call her something close to that because we are two over grown schoolboys when you come right to it), was already at the school with two large boxes of plastic eggs. She was about to open the school lunchroom as other parents were showing up to start the cooking. Lois (our flasher and community volunteer), came to see us lounging around and decided to give us something to do, sending George and meself off to the schoolyard to hide the eggs. We each took a box and loaded our arms with as many of the colourful eggs as we could hold and then went around looking for appropriate hiding places.
"Hey Gabe, you want to enjoy dinner and maybe linger over coffee and cake?"
"What's that George?" I asked curious where he was going with the idea.
"Well, I've been to these egg hunts before and as soon as the little darlings have gathered the eggs, they come running like rampaging hordes into the lunchroom and all hell breaks loose, the sound is a din, you have to shout to be heard and dinner, well, my stomach gets upset from the stress."
"Uh yes, George, I can visualise all that. Scary, scary stuff," I muttered as I looked for hiding places.
"Doesn't have to be."
"Huh? What you mean doesn't have to be?"
"Well, we could hide these eggs so the kids can't find them easily. Like we could go over there beyond the swing sets and over there beyond the storage shed, and even over there where the slide and jungle gym are."
I looked in each direction and uh yes, yes we could. The kiddies were used to looking closer to the playground, but if we were on the perimeter, it would be . . . shall we say a little off the beaten and usual path of egg finding places? Well, Jaysus and begorrah, we did just that, hid eggs so even an adult would have a time trying to locate them. We threw the empty boxes in the trash bin, shook hands at a deed well done and took ourselves inside to watch the food prep and maybe steal a bite or two of this or that dish.
It was soon after the places were set, the parents and kiddies started to arrive for the great hunt and dinner was about to be served. Now dinner, mind you be this all day affair, where if you wanted to go out and watch the egg hunt you could wander in later for a meal. Those grandparents who would come in sooner than watch the hunt, could sit right down and feast away in the relative quiet of adult conversation without the sounds or the rambunctious running about the place by small feet. Tonya arrived and immediately took our son to the playground for the great Easter egg hunt, and me and George loaded up plates of food and anyting else that was edible and were about to take our seats when me wife came in looking aghast that I be starting me dinner without her or the Airport.
"Believe me Tonya, I'll polish this off and come back for seconds with you and O'Hare, promise. It won't take me long, and I'll be right out."
She reluctantly took herself back outside as George and yours truly dug in. Well, we were in piggy heaven, not only did we partake of the first sitting, but the second and third! It be on me dessert that I heard the grumbling by the cooks that everyone was still outside and the food was getting dry. What was the deal? Well, George and I could have told them, but we sheepishly kept on chewing our food like we had no clue.
An hour and forty-five minutes later, some fella came in grumbling he'd like to know who the idiots were who hid the eggs because those "jerks" made it hard for the kids to find any let alone one freaking egg. He slammed turkey on his plate as other disgruntled parents came in grumbling the same thing. George was not aware he was slowly sliding under the table to disappear should a lynch mob come bursting through the doors.
Sam Manning, one of the dads came to sit across from George and me.
"I have never been on a hunt that took THAT long. You guys have any idea who hid the eggs this year?"
"Uh no, no, no we don't," George and I said in unison.
"You know George?" I asked.
"No, do you Gabe?"
And so we were safe for the moment until me wife came in wearing the very same expression her mother usually reserves for me, and that would be DISAPPROVING. She put the Airport in a booster seat next to me and announced she was off to get him a plate of food, because the poor child was exhausted from hunting eggs he couldn't find, and just look at his Easter clothes, he was full of brambles and the persons who hid those eggs should be horsewhipped for being cruel to children and their parents. I knew she suspected I had a part in that. But off she hissed, me shoulders were slouched and me head hung in shame, but I kept on eating like I had no clue what she was going on about.
Lucky for George and I, we left early before it could be known we were the foodies or culprits that made for the longest Easter egg hunt in the history of our little village. So far we both be safe, no one has given us up, though the flasher be the only one with the information thirty odd angry parents would like to have. So far she's been mum about it, the excuse being she was so busy setting everything up, she never kept a list of who did what. She winks at me when she sees me at the post office in town, like we have a secret and begorrah we do! Lucky for me Tonya has no real clue. I have vehemently denied any part in such a thing, she thinks I set up the plates and stuff like that, so I be breathing easier.
Gabe
Copyright © 2009 All rights reserved
R. Linda:
Imagine me surprise when me wife informs me that we are going to an Easter egg hunt at the pre-school where our little Airport attends. Inside the teachers and parents are going to have a community Easter dinner, ham, turkey, mashed potatoes with gravy, cranberry sauce, glazed carrots, rolls, well you get the idea. Me first reaction to this news was instant shock that yours truly would be made once again to dress up in a bunny costume and you know once was more than enough. Well, it was related to me frozen brain that no such thing would befall me and I settled down and was told the parents would be putting candy in plastic eggs and it was me job to go and help in any way I could. I did have a partner to help me in this endeavour, one George Mason. Now George be like me, a laid back sort but don't put him in a Santa costume ever. He did his time as a dress up Santa, like I did mine as the Easter bunny. There are things we will do for the good of the kiddies, but dress up isn't one of them and never, oh please never, have us babysit because we don't have the patience, especially if food be around.
Very early this morning, I met George at the school. Mrs. Hucker (I know and we do call her something close to that because we are two over grown schoolboys when you come right to it), was already at the school with two large boxes of plastic eggs. She was about to open the school lunchroom as other parents were showing up to start the cooking. Lois (our flasher and community volunteer), came to see us lounging around and decided to give us something to do, sending George and meself off to the schoolyard to hide the eggs. We each took a box and loaded our arms with as many of the colourful eggs as we could hold and then went around looking for appropriate hiding places.
"Hey Gabe, you want to enjoy dinner and maybe linger over coffee and cake?"
"What's that George?" I asked curious where he was going with the idea.
"Well, I've been to these egg hunts before and as soon as the little darlings have gathered the eggs, they come running like rampaging hordes into the lunchroom and all hell breaks loose, the sound is a din, you have to shout to be heard and dinner, well, my stomach gets upset from the stress."
"Uh yes, George, I can visualise all that. Scary, scary stuff," I muttered as I looked for hiding places.
"Doesn't have to be."
"Huh? What you mean doesn't have to be?"
"Well, we could hide these eggs so the kids can't find them easily. Like we could go over there beyond the swing sets and over there beyond the storage shed, and even over there where the slide and jungle gym are."
I looked in each direction and uh yes, yes we could. The kiddies were used to looking closer to the playground, but if we were on the perimeter, it would be . . . shall we say a little off the beaten and usual path of egg finding places? Well, Jaysus and begorrah, we did just that, hid eggs so even an adult would have a time trying to locate them. We threw the empty boxes in the trash bin, shook hands at a deed well done and took ourselves inside to watch the food prep and maybe steal a bite or two of this or that dish.
It was soon after the places were set, the parents and kiddies started to arrive for the great hunt and dinner was about to be served. Now dinner, mind you be this all day affair, where if you wanted to go out and watch the egg hunt you could wander in later for a meal. Those grandparents who would come in sooner than watch the hunt, could sit right down and feast away in the relative quiet of adult conversation without the sounds or the rambunctious running about the place by small feet. Tonya arrived and immediately took our son to the playground for the great Easter egg hunt, and me and George loaded up plates of food and anyting else that was edible and were about to take our seats when me wife came in looking aghast that I be starting me dinner without her or the Airport.
"Believe me Tonya, I'll polish this off and come back for seconds with you and O'Hare, promise. It won't take me long, and I'll be right out."
She reluctantly took herself back outside as George and yours truly dug in. Well, we were in piggy heaven, not only did we partake of the first sitting, but the second and third! It be on me dessert that I heard the grumbling by the cooks that everyone was still outside and the food was getting dry. What was the deal? Well, George and I could have told them, but we sheepishly kept on chewing our food like we had no clue.
An hour and forty-five minutes later, some fella came in grumbling he'd like to know who the idiots were who hid the eggs because those "jerks" made it hard for the kids to find any let alone one freaking egg. He slammed turkey on his plate as other disgruntled parents came in grumbling the same thing. George was not aware he was slowly sliding under the table to disappear should a lynch mob come bursting through the doors.
Sam Manning, one of the dads came to sit across from George and me.
"I have never been on a hunt that took THAT long. You guys have any idea who hid the eggs this year?"
"Uh no, no, no we don't," George and I said in unison.
"You know George?" I asked.
"No, do you Gabe?"
And so we were safe for the moment until me wife came in wearing the very same expression her mother usually reserves for me, and that would be DISAPPROVING. She put the Airport in a booster seat next to me and announced she was off to get him a plate of food, because the poor child was exhausted from hunting eggs he couldn't find, and just look at his Easter clothes, he was full of brambles and the persons who hid those eggs should be horsewhipped for being cruel to children and their parents. I knew she suspected I had a part in that. But off she hissed, me shoulders were slouched and me head hung in shame, but I kept on eating like I had no clue what she was going on about.
Lucky for George and I, we left early before it could be known we were the foodies or culprits that made for the longest Easter egg hunt in the history of our little village. So far we both be safe, no one has given us up, though the flasher be the only one with the information thirty odd angry parents would like to have. So far she's been mum about it, the excuse being she was so busy setting everything up, she never kept a list of who did what. She winks at me when she sees me at the post office in town, like we have a secret and begorrah we do! Lucky for me Tonya has no real clue. I have vehemently denied any part in such a thing, she thinks I set up the plates and stuff like that, so I be breathing easier.
Gabe
Copyright © 2009 All rights reserved
