My mom is the Easter basket queen. For as long as I can remember, my sisters and I have hit the jackpot where these small gift-giving vessels are concerned: jewelry, books, gift certificates, and of course, candy. Mom doesn’t waste her time on hollow chocolate bunnies and jelly beans; she goes for the good stuff: M&Ms, Lindt balls, truffles, Dove bars, and my personal favorites, Cadbury Creme Eggs and Reece’s peanut butter eggs. God, I get high just thinking about the chocolate rush.
As I’ve gotten older, the basket itself has changed a bit. I’ve gotten Easter purses, coffee mugs, even candy-filled shoes. Once, after I added a new kitten to my household, I got an Easter kitty dish. But this year some things are a little different. For one, I turned 30. Now, perhaps from a butt-thigh-tummy perspective, excessive candy consumption is not the best idea at this time in my life, but my love for really sweet gooey chocolate is alive and well. But there’s something else. I recently told my mom that I want to have a baby, and that I’m starting the process immediately. She is beyond excited. My younger sisters are 17 and 19. Let’s face it–we just don’t get as excited about the Easter Bunny as we once did. I know that somewhere in the back of my mother’s mind she is planning the as yet unconceived child’s first Easter basket, and it’s going to be way cooler than Cadbury eggs in a cat dish.
So it’s three days until Easter, and I got my “basket” in the mail yesterday. It was a card with a $25 check inside. Perhaps it’s true that my mother has simply moved on to thoughts of grandchildren and holiday fun. Maybe she’s preparing me for the fact that once the child arrives, no one will pay me one bit of attention. Whatever the case, I’m gonna miss that Cadbury egg.
Note: March 28, 2005–On Easter Sunday upon returning from the morning dog walk expedition, I spied a green gift bag hanging precariously from my front door handle. Alas, it was a big honkin’ bag of chocolate (Cadbury Creme Eggs, in both regular and miniature sizes; Milky Way Eggs; Dove chocolate bunnies; and Lindt truffle bunnies). The attached note said “From the Easter Bunny,” but I’m not fooled. I hereby issue a formal blog-apology to my mother, who remains forever and always the Easter Basket Queen.