Tag Archives: Easter Bunny

I Married The Easter Bunny Part VIII – The Planning

The very next day after blowing up at me for being engaged my mother quit trying to talk me out of it.  She wasn’t happy or particularly helpful, passive aggressive is probably an accurate term for her attitude.  To her credit, she only threw one more tantrum during the whole rest of the engagement.  When she asked when we planned to have the wedding and I told her October, she lost it.  It was only four months away, I’d miss Christmas etc, etc.  So I talked to Mark and we agreed to put it off til January.

The next few months should have been fun, but overall, they were not.  My parents offered to give us money and skip the wedding.  At first I agreed, re-arranged my plans, then changed my mind back.

No one seemed happy for us but us.  His side was unhappy because we didn’t want kids there and because we weren’t going to play country music.  There was a minor flap over the food and the location of the reception and I’m pretty sure they didn’t like my veil, which I showed them in an effort to include them in the bride side of things.  The rehearsal dinner was also an issue.  We wanted it one place, they wanted it another.  They won because they were paying and because they didn’t want to do something more or different from they had done for their other son.

Things were even worse on my side.  My parents didn’t want to spend any money.  I bought a pretty dress, but it wasn’t remotely anything that I really wanted.  The only place I could have my reception was the American Legion Hall that my Dad belonged to because they were going to let us have it steeply discounted.  I didn’t want to have it there.  It reeked of cigarette smoke and reminded me of a bunch of old guys sitting around playing cards and dying Easter eggs for the annual Legion egg hunt.  I don’t remember what we were going to decorate the hall or the church with, I only remember that I had to do it myself.  The morning of the wedding.   I made the bouquets and we did not hire a florist.  The mother of a friend of my husband’s ran a catering company and wanted to do the food as a gift.  My mother-in-law told them one thing, we wanted something else.  I talked to the mom and worked out a new menu, but I felt weird about it.  I didn’t really trust the whole thing.  A friend of mine was going to DJ for us, but he seemed to be blowing me off.  We agreed to everything and planned it all and then I never heard from him again.  When I called to confirm a few days before, he almost seemed to have forgotten.  I had to go over all the songs and timing and everything again and he seriously didn’t seem to know any of it.  Again, I felt weird about things and didn’t really trust the situation.

The only thing I really liked was my cake.  It was a huge multi-cake extravaganza with bridges and a lighted fountain and mounds of frosting flowers.  It was beautiful and cost more than my dress.

We went out and bought a cake topper, cutting knives, a guest book, garter and all the other paraphernalia a wedding needed, but everything felt wrong.  The girls would have beautiful dresses and the guys would be handsome in their tuxedos.  My mother made her dress.  She wouldn’t spend the money to buy one.  My mother-in-law wouldn’t wear a long dress.  No one, and I mean no one would cooperate.  Even when I tried to get my husband to help me, he just said whatever you want is fine.  Just do it and tell me when and where to show up.  None of it was fun and I was worried about all of it.  I was alone.

We should have taken the money and run, but I just had to have a wedding…


I Married The Easter Bunny Part V

So after months of feeling like crap, I decided the time to move on was here at last.  I also realized that I needed some extra money.  Spring was beginning and this college girl needed new clothes, so I went to Sherry, the mall manager and asked her if I could work at the Easter Bunny booth during the season.  She said sure and that is when, oddly enough, the rest of my life began.

I worked the picture booth taking the pictures several times and it was just fine.  I was the bunny once and it sucked.  It was hot and smelly inside that stupid paper mache head.  It was not conducive to getting drinks of water or scratching your nose.  It was also confusing.  Does the bunny talk?  Does the bunny just pat the little ones on the head and send them away?  The bunny doesn’t have fingers, so the bunny helper gave the little kids a lollipop and coloring book which took off some of the pressure.  Also, it seemed the stupid, stinky head harbored germs.  I did my stint as the bunny and came down with a horrific, snotty, sneazy cold.  I didn’t want to be the bunny on my next shift like I was scheduled to be.  I wouldn’t be able to breathe or wipe my nose or get drinks.  I knew there was a teenage boy working the booth with me, so I called him at home and asked him if he would don the stupid suit for me the next day.  Of course he said yes.  Initial contact had been made.

The next day, I went to work in a shortish blue and white striped dress, a red belt that was one of those super cool Limited slouch belts and red heels.  Popped collar and carefully curled hair accompanied the outfit.  I was 80’s hot and I felt great, in spite of the snot.  I walked into the mall office to get my bunny stuff and my savior was sitting there with his elbows on his knees staring at the floor.  His first glimpse of me was those red, red shoes.  In retrospect, it was like a silly scene from a movie.  He looked at the shoes and scanned up to my face, swallowed really hard, regained his 18-year-old composure in the face of my 20-year-old sophistication, cleared his throat and popped out a manly “HI!”  I knew exactly who he was and that he was there to save my butt, but of course I had to act like I was not sure who he was.  “Oh, are you Mark?”  When he responded in the affirmative, I helped him get in the stupid suit, picked up the cash box, grabbed our elderly mall-cop escort and headed out into center court for our shift.

It was a really slow night, so I stood over by the bunny and talked to him.  It was really nice.  He was a nice person.  He sympathized with my cold and told me that he would do bunny duty for the remainder of the season whenever we worked together.  I was appreciative, he was nice.  When we got our break, I stopped at the popcorn store on the way back to the office and bought us a couple of cokes while our elderly escort took him on back.  We had a half hour break because of the heat of the suit, and we sat in the empty mall office the entire time talking.  We talked about my school, his school, our friends, spring, the mall, Easter, the bunny suit, Kings Island, cars, food, the lake, our families, music and on and on.  Every time we worked together, we did the same thing.  We’d talk.  About everything.  We’d get bored at the booth because weeknights were slow, so I’d grab the basket of suckers, take my bunny friend by the arm and we’d walk around the mall looking for little kids.  We became friends.  Really good friends.

Finally toward the end of Easter Bunny season, we decided to go out and hang out after work that weekend.  We were buddies and we enjoyed each other’s company.  I was not interested in him in a boyfriend kind of way at all.  I was done with that remember?  He was cute.  Very, very blonde and he had nice legs, but I really didn’t care.  I also couldn’t imagine actually going out with a boy two years younger than me.  I had just never thought of such a thing.  So with that knowledge firmly stuck in my brain, we got off work Saturday night, left my car at the mall, got in his car and proceeded to cruise around for hours.  Talking.  We decided we didn’t want to actually go anywhere so we just drove.  It was a pattern what is still repeating itself to this day.  Drive and talk.  Stop for a snack and a potty break, drive and talk some more.  By the time he took me back to the mall for my car, it was obvious that our hanging out had evolved into a date.  We decided to do it again.

We went out every chance we had.  We did all the usual stuff, movies, hanging out with friends, eating out etc., but the thing we enjoyed more than anything else was either driving around alone, or sitting by the lake or the river someplace with a picnic and talking.  We talked more than I had ever talked to anyone else in my life.  We really got to know one another and like one another as human beings.  After about a month of this, he invited me to his prom.  I did not hesitate for even one second.  I had been out of high school for two years and my undying wish was to go to another dance.  So I got a beautiful white, full length halter dress, told none of my friends and went to prom.  We had a blast.

After prom, he graduated and we proceeded to spend the entire summer going to Kings Island Amusement Park.  He had worked there for several summers and I had been hanging out there for years.  We had our season passes and we wore them out.  Part-time work doesn’t provide lots of cash for dating, so KI was a great way to actually go somewhere and have fun.  We’d split sodas and snacks and stay there all day til it closed.  Then we’d drive back roads home and then sit on the porch swing at my house and talk.  We’d been talking all day and we could still talk half the night on that swing.  Sometime in June, he told me he was going into the Air Force in August.  THAT sucked.  I had previous experience with boys going in the service and it was awful and I didn’t want to go through it again.  For some reason though, I decided to put up with it.  I didn’t want to lose this boy who it seemed was the perfect person for me.  We were attracted to each other of course, but our emotional and mental connection was unparalleled.  We suited each other in every way but especially in the ways that count.  We were friends.  We were each in love with our best friend.  So we continued to spend each and every available moment together and at the end of August he left.  I went from being happy again to being sad again, but in a completely different way.

I Married The Easter Bunny Part IV

The next three and a half months were miserable.  It quickly became apparent to everyone except AH, that B was going out with him for no other reason than to hurt yours truly.

They would come to the mall and walk up and down across the center court from the info booth holding hands and laughing and kissing.  I did my best to ignore it, but I watched every move from under my bangs.  Apparently, my lack of a reaction spurred her to greater action.  Suddenly, they started frequenting the jewelry store right next to my desk.  She would try on engagement rings and hold her arm up as high as it would stretch and squeal with extremely loud delight at the sparkle as she wiggled her fingers.  He just stood there like a big dope while she preened and shot not so subtle side glances in my direction.

Their next stop was the art store just across from me, where she would point out paintings high up on the walls and gesticulate wildly while apparently explaining where said mall artwork would hang in their future home.  Again, he stood by, smiling once in a while, but not really reacting.  I think he was finally catching on because I noticed him starting to look my way.  He was twenty-five years old for God’s sake, it took him long enough…

A couple of my mall friends, bless their shoe selling hearts, started trying to help.  They knew who the two of them were, so my handsome shoe-boy friends started appearing out of nowhere to flirt and laugh and touch my arm whenever they saw the AH and his B show up.  What those two didn’t know was that one of them was married and the other one was gay.  They were just trying to help, and not long after the boys began to intervene, the hurtful mall visits came to an abrupt end.

Since AH must have realized that they were being bullies and refused to come to the mall anymore, they suddenly began showing up very publicly around town.  I’d see them at the gas station, she’d look up and see me in my car and be overcome with a fit of uncontrollable passion and literally LEAP into his arms and start kissing him.  It was nauseating and I was moving past hurt to pissed off.  Then one day, I saw her in her ex-boyfriend’s car outside the bank kissing HIM passionately.  Then I saw her driving his car.  Then I saw her with the AH again.  I realized I was no longer hurt OR angry, I had become indifferent.  I no longer cared.  If he was that stupid, I didn’t want him anyway.  I just hoped that when the idiot finally realized he’d been used, that he’d have a painful moment or two over the stupid mistake he’d made.

Another thing I realized was that I no longer cared about boys.  I was finished.  I realized that at some point, I would date, but I would NEVER allow anyone to get that close to me again.  It had been my experience that they always disappointed you.  They either waited too long to do what they said they would do, or they got overly possessive and jealous and cut you off from everyone but them or they lied and cheated and were stupid.  I decided that from that moment forward, it would be my way or the highway and the highway would be an easy choice  because I was never getting emotionally attached to a male ever again.

About halfway through March, I began to find out how wrong I was about that.

I Married The Easter Bunny Part I

I have one of those husbands that make women go awwwwwhhhh and make other men go crazy.  We had our 25th wedding anniversary in January and he still does wonderful things for me.  I’ve had several people say they’d like to hear the story about how we met, so I’m going to start that story here, and it requires a prelude.

Many, many years ago, I was a hot, glamorous college girl.  I had my own car, long legs and long blonde hair.  I had had a fairly steady stream of male companionship since about seventh grade because, well re-read the last sentence.  I was a big fan of boys.  They were way more fun than most girls because they just kind of live life and don’t worry about what other people think.  I’ve always had guy friends, much to the chagrin of the boyfriends, but I didn’t really care whether they liked it or not.  I had been in a two year relationship with a boy my own age which fell apart largely due to maternal pressure on my side.  Being young and inexperienced, I completely flubbed that breakup because I didn’t know how to explain what was wrong.  Instead of telling him the truth, I allowed the breakup to be blamed on the next boyfriend, which wasn’t entirely accurate.

The next boyfriend, lets call him AH (and yes that stands for something that I’m sure is not too hard to figure out, especially as the story unfolds) was older than me.  I was 19, he was 25 and had just graduated from college.  He was really tall, which to me at 5’8″ was an important quality.  He worked part-time while he was looking for a teaching job, so he was available.  He drove a motorcycle.  The most important thing about him in my idiotic 19 year old brain was his looks.  He was well, not hard to look at.  He was handsome.  He was a runner, so he was always in shape.  He was always tan.  He wore snow white wife beaters (which for some reason didn’t look tacky, they just looked good and I swear, I think he wore a new one each time because they were always so WHITE) tucked into his jeans which were always crisp and really dark blue.  He wore mirrored aviators.  It was summer.

He took me to outdoor concerts and on long rides waaay out in the country on his bike.  We’d stop at some little crappy place to eat and then ride some more.  We would sit by the lake and look at the stars and listen to music and talk.  I thought I had died and gone to heaven.  He took me to stupid little VFW dances where a friend of his was playing in the band.  He took me to the fair.  All that country bumpkin kind of stuff that I had decided I didn’t want to do anymore, but suddenly loved again.  It was halcyon days for sure.  Then fall came and everything began to change.

I commuted to college.  I didn’t want to leave home.  I was very immature in a LOT of ways and was in no way ready to fly away from the nest.  When school started up again, I had less time for long bike rides and picnics at the lake.  Then the weather started to get cold and we couldn’t do that kind of stuff anymore and he decided to buy a truck and put the bike in the garage.  One day, I got home from school early and as I was driving through town, I saw someone else driving his truck.  A female someone else that I had never seen.  Little did I know that a friend of HIS saw ME see HER driving his truck and told him.  Needless to say, I was pissed.  I went to work that night and then went to a club with my friends.  I hadn’t talked to him and didn’t really want to, maybe ever again.  While I was gone, he called my house and talked to my mom.  I had already told her what I had seen and told her that if he called, she could tell him I was at work, but she was not to tell him I was going out after.  If he asked, she was to say she didn’t know, and God bless her she did what I asked.  When he called, he told her what was going on and that the woman was a friend of his whose car had broken down and that he let her borrow his truck to go pick up her daughter and said that he was going to let me stew for a while.  Mom told him that that was probably NOT a good idea.  She knew that I had very low tolerance for BS.  What she didn’t know was that I was incredibly stupid.