Hippity Hoppity

Last night my husband and I went on a DATE to (belatedly) celebrate our tenth anniversary and I got a new dress and shoes!

It was exactly a year and a week since I had my varicose vein surgery, and so I thought I would celebrate by wearing shoes and stockings, rather than my usual boots.

It was fabulous going on an actual date – my husband and I go on about four dates a year, so when we do go out it’s an event.  Last night was also an event in that, as we were driving to the restaurant, we came across a squished roadkill rabbit!  Ew!  Gross!  Even in all its grotesqueness, I couldn’t stop giggling, thinking of all the disappointed children who would be doomed to spend the holiday without chocolate eggs.

It reminded me of the story I was told once by a guy who worked out in Rimbey, Alberta, who hit – but did not kill – a deer with his car on Christmas Eve, and ended up, in order to be humane, having to shoot it, his children looking on from the backseat of the car.  His children who thought their dad had just shot one of Santa’s reindeer.  I wonder if those kids are still in therapy.

We did have a lovely Easter weekend, complete with colouring eggs and then – as we traditionally, if unorthodoxly do – having the children hide them for us to find, in the backyard.  We did that this afternoon, once the sun came out, although the kids took to hiding some of them in the snow that’s still there.  For those of you who live in milder climates, I envy you.  You probably don’t know the joys of digging a hardboiled egg out of a snowdrift.

This morning the boys had an Easter treasure hunt, complete with complicated clues such as “Where do wet clothes go after they have been washed?” and “What do Mini-Wheats and pizza sauce have in common?” (answer to the latter question: they are kept in the same cupboard).

That is my new favourite picture of the boys, reading their clues.  It sums up their personalities perfectly.
Speaking of a-little-bit-evil, right this second the boys are watching The Phantom Menace, which I saw in the theatre but not since – and for good reason, because it’s terrible.  It turns out that I actually have very little knowledge about anything Star Wars-related, to my children’s grave disappointment.  In fact, due to the combination of Lego Star Wars Wii and a number of Early Reader Star Wars books, my children know much, much more than I do.
Did anyone watch the Master’s this weekend?  I watched it by osmosis, which means I know who won and I know that the runner-up (is he called a runner-up?  I don’t know.) had a double eagle, which is only the fourth time in the history of the Master’s that such a thing has happened.  It was, my husband said, a very exciting Master’s.  Maybe the most exciting Master’s ever!  Which…well…is not really that exciting. 

So, that was my weekend.  Colouring eggs, a date, some roadkill, a treasure hunt, lots of golf commentary, and the lamest and most totally confusing movie ever.  How was your weekend?     


  1. You look very nice all dressed up for date night.

  2. You look so nice!

    What movie did you see? Tom and I got to go out yesterday and saw American Reunion. We thought that was hilarious.

  3. Ooh-la-la. Nice dress.

    I was thinking of you yesterday. My dad (who lives in Alberta) put up an NDP election sign on his lawn and told his neighbour it was meant to counteract her Wild Rose Party election sign. Then she cried. SHE CRIED!

  4. Rachelradiostar says

    I love your blog. The End.

  5. I can just picture the faces of the kids in the backseat…and on Christmas eve….I don’t know why, but I’m laughing a lot.
    you look mahhhhvelous by the way.

  6. You’re so pretty. And yet I don’t hate you at all – am I doing this wrong?

    Our week-end was great and low-key, except for Crazy Saturday Sports Day, because who DOESN’T put all the sports on Easter week-end, right? We didn’t decorate or colour eggs this year – just ran out of time and my new tradition is not doing traditions if they stress me out. Just hid a buttload of chocolate for the kids on Sunday morning. They seem unscarred.

  7. p.s. Just looked at my ass in the mirror and I do, in fact, hate you a TINY bit. Whew.

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