The mall that we went to is known for their Santa and Easter Bunny visits. They really go all out to make the experience over the top for the kids. I hadn’t seen it in person before, so I was really impressed with their Easter decorations and the bunny area. It was beautiful! Like it came right out of a book.
Bean thought it was magical! He kept touching all the flowers and Easter eggs and bunnies hidden along the path where the line formed.
Gracie was unimpressed, though. Where were the overflowing bottles of formula and clean diapers? This place had nothing to offer her.
The only problem with this bunny adventure? The line was incredibly long. So, so, so long. We waited at the end of it for 25 minutes and I don’t think we moved 2 feet. And we still had a huge line in front of us!
“Well, this is horrible,” Chris complained. “All these kids are annoying.”
“Yeah,” I agreed.
And then we both stood there waiting for the other person to say what neither of us wanted to be the first to say.
“You know,” I said. “I never had Easter Bunny pictures taken when I was a kid and I wasn’t emotionally scarred.”
“I never had them taken either and I’m fine.”
“Sooo…” I said.
“So, let’s ditch this bunny stand.”
“I’m right behind you!”
That’s right. We left the bunny line. We did it. We just walk out of line. I could feel the eyes of parents ahead of us who had been waiting for 30, 45 minutes, an hour? They were judging us because we weren’t strong enough for the sake of our children. We weren’t sacrificing our time for pictures with a giant rabbit. We were QUITTERS.
I also so the envy in their eyes, too.
“Take me with you!” their eyes pleaded.
Bean didn’t seem to care that we left. He didn’t like standing in line anyways and I think he liked the bunny better from afar. So, we took him around to where the bunny was sitting and we said bye bye to the Easter Bunny.
Then, we did the despicable. We stood outside the bunny’s fenced in spring paradise and we took each others pictures with the bunny in the background.
Happy Easter, Bean.
Your Slacker Parents