Saturday, March 29, 2008

What was that whizzing by?

I could be wrong, but I'm fairly sure I saw the Easter Bunny zipping through my yard the other day. But that can't be - it's still March! Here I am, minding my own business, waiting anxiously for Spring, and I'm told that Easter has come and gone! What's up with that? I mean seriously, the hard-boiled eggs were frozen!

Now I understand the timing of Easter has something to do with the moon, or the stars, or the rotation of the sun, or something. Okay, obviously I don't understand it all that well...but I'd sure like to have a chat with whoever decided the system. I mean, everyone knows Christ wasn't actually born on December 25th, or even in the winter, yet we don't seem to have any trouble celebrating on that day every single year. So why can't we pick a day for his resurrection and stick with that? I mean, seriously, there's still snow on the ground.

I have this nagging fear that the seasons are as confused as the holidays this year. I realize this sounds crazy, but maybe Old Man Winter was taking a nap when the Easter Bunny came unexpectedly, and he doesn't realize it's time to leave? Maybe he'll never go!
Which reminds me of a sign I saw yesterday that I've decided I need to add as a tag to my signature: I'm not suffering from insanity, I'm enjoying every minute of it!
Truer words were never spoken. Happy Spring everyone!

Sunday, March 2, 2008

Them Thars Monsters Out There

My 8-year-old came in from playing the other day and said, "You want to know something wierd?"


"You know that big hole in the neighbor's fence?"

You bet I've noticed the big hole. It's about 4-feet wide and 4-feet high. Just about the size a 4-wheeler would cause if it happened to plow into it while removing snow or doing wheelies or whatever. I worried when I first saw it that maybe OUR 4-wheeler had been the guilty culprit, but if so no one has fessed up.

"Sure," I said.

"Well, have you noticed how the edges are really jagged?"

"Uh, sure." (I know, I'm very verbose when talking to my son.)

"Well..." he hesitated. Then took on a very serious composure. "First..." his voice deepened, filled with the gravity of the importance of his next statement: "Dresden and I believe in monsters."

"Oh, I see."


"So you think a monster made that hole?"

"Those jagged edges look just like teeth marks."

"Oh. So you think a monster bit a hole in the fence?"


"Wow. I hadn't thought of that. I thought it looked like maybe a 4-wheeler ran into it."

"No." He headed to the door. "That's not what it looks like."

"Oh. I see."

I wanted to grab him and squeeze him tight, just to keep him from doing any more growing up. If I could just keep him like this a little longer...