Please don't put me in your Easter basket! Oh please! Oh please!
I heard all about what happened last year. There was this nice chocolate brown bunny that ended up in your basket - and he got his head eaten first, followed by his tail - and then the rest of him!
The paper-mache rabbit hadn’t talked to me for eleven years. And yet, as I was walking down the hall of my grandparent’s house, past the chair where he customarily sat as a “decoration,” there it was – the quiet, wispy voice of my childhood friend.
“Let’s go play in the garden. Let’s play, Kara.”
I stared at the rabbit long and hard. What had I named it? Sniffles. Yea, Sniffles the Rabbit.
“Let’s play, please. I'd love to see the sun again.” It begged, though it did not move.
I looked around to see if anyone was watching. I even checked around the corner and in the coat closet to make sure no one was joshing around with me. No one was there, but I could hear my grandfather calling out Jeopardy answers in the other room.
“Arsenic, it’s arsenic!”
For the sake of my reputation, should anyone come along, I sat down next to the chair and faced away from the rabbit. I stared at the door, imagining my cover story would be “I’m waiting for Kim, you know, my blonde friend?”
And then I said, “Sniffles? Is that you?”
Maybe it was a good idea to talk to that psychiatrist after all…
Here's one more story, in the continuing saga of Squeaky and WeeThing...
Ashley placed the stuffed toy bunny on her dresser. She smiled. “Now, you stay here, Mr. Bunny - and be a good boy until I get back, okay? I have to go brush my teeth before I get into bed.” Ashley bounced out of her bedroom, her long hair waving behind her.
A few minutes later, Squeaky and WeeThing stuck their heads out of the mousehole and looked around.
“There he is!” piped WeeThing. He pointed up at the dresser. “See? I told you the little girl who lives in this room got herself a nice fuzzy rodent! Although...his ears are kind of big.”
Squeaky rolled his eyes and gestured for WeeThing to follow him. They scampered up the drawer knobs and pulls until they got up onto the dresser.
“He’s a big sucker, isn’t he?” said Squeaky.
“Shhhh!” said WeeThing, “He’ll hear you.”
Squeaky shook his head. Aw c’mon! You can’t be this dense, can you?
“Well, if he’s going to hear us, then at least we should be friendly, huh Squeaky? Here goes...Hello, Mr. Rabbit!” WeeThing cupped his paws around his mouth to form a megaphone.
The stuffed bunny just sat there.
“Maybe he’s hard of hearing,” said WeeThing. He scratched his head.
“Maybe he’s just sleeping.” Squeaky’s sarcasm missed WeeThing by a mile.
“Uh uh, his eyes are open. Look!” WeeThing said.
Squeaky looked at WeeThing and sighed. “You know, sometimes folks do sleep with their eyes open.”
“Whatever. I’ll try it again,” said WeeThing.
“Hope springs eternal.” Squeaky snickered.
Enunciating each word very slowly and very clearly – and also, very loudly, WeeThing said, “Helloooo, Mr. Bunny Rabbit! Don’t you think the weather’s fine today?”
The stuffed bunny just sat there.
WeeThing wiggled his whiskers in frustration. “What’s the matter with this fellow? Is he stupid or rude or what?”
“Listen, WeeThing, he’s just a stuffed –” Squeaky started to say, but WeeThing cut him off.
“Don’t go making excuses for him, Squeaky! You’re way too nice!” WeeThing snarled. To the stuffed bunny, WeeThing yelled, “Yo BunnyDude! You may be big and all, but that’s no reason for this snarky behavior!” With that, WeeThing shoved the stuffed bunny who teetered briefly before falling over.
“Oh my God!” cried WeeThing, “I think I’ve killed him!” WeeThing put his tiny paws over his eyes.
“Nah.” Squeaky tried hard not to laugh. “You just showed him who’s the boss, WeeThing. That’s all. When he wakes up, he’ll know for the next time not to mess with you.”
“You sure?”
Squeaky nodded with as much solemnity as he could muster.
“Well, okay then!” WeeThing puffed his chest out proudly. “So, whaddaya say to going back down to the ol’ mousehouse and celebrate with a nice hunk of cheese?”
“Works for me,” said Squeaky.
The two of them scurried down the dresser and headed back into the mousehole.
A short while later, Ashley walked back into her bedroom. She looked at the stuffed bunny lying on her dresser. Shrugging, she stood him back up and climbed into bed.
Well, I told Josh that if he called me a wannabe witch one more time I'd turn his ass into a rabbit. Who's laughing now, Josh? Who's laughing now?
ReplyDeleteHa! Not so wannabe! :)
ReplyDeletePlease don't put me in your Easter basket! Oh please! Oh please!
ReplyDeleteI heard all about what happened last year. There was this nice chocolate brown bunny that ended up in your basket - and he got his head eaten first, followed by his tail - and then the rest of him!
That's just wrong!
The paper-mache rabbit hadn’t talked to me for eleven years. And yet, as I was walking down the hall of my grandparent’s house, past the chair where he customarily sat as a “decoration,” there it was – the quiet, wispy voice of my childhood friend.
ReplyDelete“Let’s go play in the garden. Let’s play, Kara.”
I stared at the rabbit long and hard. What had I named it? Sniffles. Yea, Sniffles the Rabbit.
“Let’s play, please. I'd love to see the sun again.” It begged, though it did not move.
I looked around to see if anyone was watching. I even checked around the corner and in the coat closet to make sure no one was joshing around with me. No one was there, but I could hear my grandfather calling out Jeopardy answers in the other room.
“Arsenic, it’s arsenic!”
For the sake of my reputation, should anyone come along, I sat down next to the chair and faced away from the rabbit. I stared at the door, imagining my cover story would be “I’m waiting for Kim, you know, my blonde friend?”
And then I said, “Sniffles? Is that you?”
Maybe it was a good idea to talk to that psychiatrist after all…
(Claps hands!) lol!
ReplyDeleteHere's one more story, in the continuing saga of Squeaky and WeeThing...
ReplyDeleteAshley placed the stuffed toy bunny on her dresser. She smiled. “Now, you stay here, Mr. Bunny - and be a good boy until I get back, okay? I have to go brush my teeth before I get into bed.” Ashley bounced out of her bedroom, her long hair waving behind her.
A few minutes later, Squeaky and WeeThing stuck their heads out of the mousehole and looked around.
“There he is!” piped WeeThing. He pointed up at the dresser. “See? I told you the little girl who lives in this room got herself a nice fuzzy rodent! Although...his ears are kind of big.”
Squeaky rolled his eyes and gestured for WeeThing to follow him. They scampered up the drawer knobs and pulls until they got up onto the dresser.
“He’s a big sucker, isn’t he?” said Squeaky.
“Shhhh!” said WeeThing, “He’ll hear you.”
Squeaky shook his head. Aw c’mon! You can’t be this dense, can you?
“Well, if he’s going to hear us, then at least we should be friendly, huh Squeaky? Here goes...Hello, Mr. Rabbit!” WeeThing cupped his paws around his mouth to form a megaphone.
The stuffed bunny just sat there.
“Maybe he’s hard of hearing,” said WeeThing. He scratched his head.
“Maybe he’s just sleeping.” Squeaky’s sarcasm missed WeeThing by a mile.
“Uh uh, his eyes are open. Look!” WeeThing said.
Squeaky looked at WeeThing and sighed. “You know, sometimes folks do sleep with their eyes open.”
“Whatever. I’ll try it again,” said WeeThing.
“Hope springs eternal.” Squeaky snickered.
Enunciating each word very slowly and very clearly – and also, very loudly, WeeThing said, “Helloooo, Mr. Bunny Rabbit! Don’t you think the weather’s fine today?”
The stuffed bunny just sat there.
WeeThing wiggled his whiskers in frustration. “What’s the matter with this fellow? Is he stupid or rude or what?”
“Listen, WeeThing, he’s just a stuffed –” Squeaky started to say, but WeeThing cut him off.
“Don’t go making excuses for him, Squeaky! You’re way too nice!” WeeThing snarled. To the stuffed bunny, WeeThing yelled, “Yo BunnyDude! You may be big and all, but that’s no reason for this snarky behavior!” With that, WeeThing shoved the stuffed bunny who teetered briefly before falling over.
“Oh my God!” cried WeeThing, “I think I’ve killed him!” WeeThing put his tiny paws over his eyes.
“Nah.” Squeaky tried hard not to laugh. “You just showed him who’s the boss, WeeThing. That’s all. When he wakes up, he’ll know for the next time not to mess with you.”
“You sure?”
Squeaky nodded with as much solemnity as he could muster.
“Well, okay then!” WeeThing puffed his chest out proudly. “So, whaddaya say to going back down to the ol’ mousehouse and celebrate with a nice hunk of cheese?”
“Works for me,” said Squeaky.
The two of them scurried down the dresser and headed back into the mousehole.
A short while later, Ashley walked back into her bedroom. She looked at the stuffed bunny lying on her dresser. Shrugging, she stood him back up and climbed into bed.
Hehe! Love the Squeeky and WeeThing tale. Love this line:
ReplyDelete"Squeaky nodded with as much solemnity as he could muster."
I can just picture it! Too cute.
What the…? “What is this?”
ReplyDelete“A bunny.”
Duh. “Yes, obviously. Why did you bring me a bunny?”
He scrunched his eyebrows. “You asked me to.”
“Honey. I said bring me HONEY.”
“Oh.”
Oh that's so funny! =D
ReplyDeleteEvery post cracked me up today. hahahaha.
ReplyDeleteHa! I could see that being a cartoon funny in the paper, Heather.
ReplyDeleteYou guys are too funny today! They all cracked me up.
ReplyDelete