“When the universe tells you to do something that Bethany thinks is a bad idea, follow the universe.”
So said my witty colleague Miller. Bethany is also a colleague, and bless her heart, she’s a glass-is-half-empty colleague. I decided to take Miller’s advice.
It all started in January when I was innocently buying another blueberry bush to complement my new orchard and discovered the cutest bunny rabbits. For sale. And then my brain went into overdrive, and I had a vision of Jax and Moose hunting Easter eggs in the back yard and discovering bunnies.
But then I polled everyone and got especially vehement feedback from Papa who must have Googled “why you should never get pet rabbits,” because every day for almost two weeks he spammed me with articles that made it seem like an inhumane idea.
So life got busy and with no one in my court, the idea fell to the wayside. But then the universe stepped in and sent an e-newsletter from the nursery with news of spring arrivals, including more bunnies. Dwarf Holland Lops they were called. And there were unbelievably cute pictures, which is what led me to poll my colleagues and make the bunny decision.
And this is why the universe had it in for me:
1) After I put a deposit on the bunnies and bought the fancy two-story hutch from Overstock.com, I ordered Dummies for Bunnies.
The first rule of Dummies for Bunnies is that you should never, ever under any circumstances buy bunnies because you think it’s a great Easter idea for small children.
Great. The dummy book was starting to make believe that I actually was a dummy.
2) The hutch arrived UNASSEMBLED, which meant I had to confess to Papa that the bunnies were coming. I waited until he was in his cups before I told him, and I must have done a very good job because he agreed, and then he got all melodramatic on me started talking about COMMITMENTS TO THE BUNNIES.
I think he was in cahoots with Dummies for Bunnies.
3) It rained the whole week before Easter, so Papa and Buzz had to assemble the hutch in Papa’s garret. For the first time in his entire life, Papa sought out directions.
The directions were in GERMAN.
Neither Papa nor Buzz read German, so they broke open a bottle of rum and proceeded to jury-rig the fancy hutch.
Duct tape and bubble gum were involved.
4) When Papa and I commenced to taking the hutch downstairs, Papa, slipped on an errant sock, grabbed onto the railing, let go of his end, and down tumbled the hutch into a heap on the floor A leg was broken, a door was off its hinge and the roof was askew.
More jury-rigging ensued.
5) Larry and Ernie—the bunnies—arrived on Good Friday afternoon. They were staying on my neighbor’s porch, and within 24 hours, Larry managed to go AWOL, and Ernie, obviously short for “Ernestine,” became a mother to a litter of baby bunnies.
6) By Saturday evening, my nerves were frayed, and I decided to end Lent a few hours early. (Yes, I, Jenny Bean, had given up wine.) After the wine was polished off, Papa fixed me a stiff Brandy Alexander, and we opened up the boys’ Easter candy.
7) When Jax and Moose awakened Sunday morning, the only indication that the Easter Bunny had visited was a beat-up looking cabinet in the backyard and a bunch of empty candy wrappers in front of the television.
“The Easter Bunny’s stars were not aligned last night,” I told them as I began dishing out ice cream for breakfast. “He’s taken the day off. He’s coming tomorrow instead.”
And that, my friends, is the Poisson d’Avril (April Fools) version of Easter this year.
The real version is much happier. First of all, I did not give up wine for Lent. I did that a long time ago, and it will never happen again. Papa and I put the hutch together, and it was Sissy, not Papa, who helped me take it down the stairs. The bunnies stayed in Belle’s apartment for one night. Their names are Flip and Flop. Jax and Moose are over the moon, and all’s well that ends well.