yes, the bunny. bunny, the easter. it’s that time again. this morning, we had a date with the b man.
if you’re a parent, you quickly find out that lots of places/organizations host these events. santa brunch. bunny brunch. mermaid bash. where your kid ( for a nominal fee) can actually dine with [insert famous disney character here]. we usually go to my great aunt’s retirement village. after an all-you-can-eat affair, the kids are led by the bunny down the halls of the retirement village to another dining room that has been peppered with hollow toy and candy-stuffed eggs for the kids to trample over each other and collect. the staff, being aware of this aggressive tendency amongst american children (and possibly witnessing the results of mob mentality first hand during previous years’ egg hunts), separates the kids into age groups. 0-3 here. 4-7 there. and the big kids can go and maim each other for dollar store sticker-stuffed eggs over there.
we followed our group of young kiddos to a quiet corner room and crammed in. being the small kids room, each kid was armed with at least one parent or grandparent wielding a camera, so, needless to say, it was a bit intimate by the time we all piled in. a nice employee went over the rules while everyone stood quietly waiting. then she began the count down. “ready…get set….GO!”
well, you’ve heard the term “blood-curdling scream” right? it’s kind of a cliche phrase used in horror comic strips and what have you. tossed around without much meaning. usually, invoking the image of someone being stabbed to death in an alley at midnight or something, am i right? not necessarily.
really, blood-curdling means that your blood actually curdles in your arteries. like spoiled milk. you know when it gets all chunky and you pour it down the drain? and it’s all like “glug, glug, glug” and you try not to breathe in the air until it’s all gone? in any case, if someone’s scream has the ability to curdle your blood, it’s pretty loud. and pretty shocking.
so, believe me when i say that ruth let out a blood-curdling scream (of pent up tension) as soon as the lady gave the go-ahead to collect the eggs. for those that know ruth, this isn’t hard to imagine. i’m sure you’ve heard this scream before. for those that don’t know her, i can’t really do it justice here, except to say that everyone just kind of paused for a moment, stunned into silence by the sheer volume of her escaping emotions. all the little kids frozen mid-egg-hunt-frenzy, elmo baskets poised, faces awash with stunned confusion. parents, eyebrows crooked together, looking on with disbelief, wondering what on god’s green earth someone could be screaming about at the top of her lungs at a child’s easter egg hunt, for cripes sake. confused, and slightly amused, more than affronted or angry. after a minute, everyone kind of shook it off and moved on. ruth, meanwhile, wanted no part in the hunt, could barely stand being in the room among the clambering other kids. i didn’t breathe my personal sigh of relief until we were out the door, in the courtyard, freed from the crowd.
ruth doesn’t do well with pressure. of any kind.
that’s fine. that’s ruth.
i just thought i would share with you this special easter memory.