Monday, April 2, 2012

Bacon and Eggs

When Tomato was 3 years old we went to Granny and Grandpa for another Easter hunt and one of the eggs that Granny’s bunny hid for her to find was a beautiful purple egg.  Because she had so many eggs from both hunts, we put them away and she was allowed to have one now and again.   

A few weeks later we were watching the video of the Easter egg hunt and Dad, who took the video knew that there was a part coming up where he asked Tomato what is in her basket and she showed him.  So he got up, went to the pantry and got the purple egg without us noticing and came back and stood near the TV screen.  When the part came, Tomato proudly shows the camera her stash, including the purple egg, Dad leaned forward and pretended to grab the purple egg out of her basket and viola it was in his hand and he gave it to her on the couch!!  Well I think both our faces must have been priceless (but luckily, even as a blonde I did catch on quite quickly) but she was dumb-struck.  Daddy had just taken a chocolate egg right out of the TV in front of her eyes!!  She went ballistic, it was very very funny.

Well Dad has been known for his antics around Easter so it came as no surprise to me when he purchased some white-coated chocolate eggs and was going to trick the girls.  I had told him about the first time we’d had those eggs as children, my mom got into the car and said she better hold the eggs so they wouldn’t break, while my dad drove and then suddenly she started throwing them over her shoulder at us and we freaked out trying to catch the eggs before they smashed all over the car, we thought she’d gone mad.  

So yesterday the girls were seated on the couch, happily reading a book together when Dad arrived with a carton of eggs and said “I’m making eggs for lunch, who wants one?”  They both said “yes please” not expecting him to throw the eggs at them BUT there was a bit of a malfunction in the execution of his trick.  He threw the first egg too high so it hit the wall behind Tomato, smashed into pieces and fell behind the couch, [which I thought was quite funny].  Undeterred, he then threw the second egg at Bacon (aged 3) who clearly did not understand what was going on, so she didn’t move and it hit her right in the eye!  Now I know you should never laugh when your child has been hurt so I sprinted out of the room before I collapsed laughing in front of them. Luckily my mom and obviously hubby, were around to console Bacon because I was doubled over in the kitchen with the tears pouring down my face, trying to laugh as quietly as I could without much success.  The more they scolded me for laughing the more I laughed, until I actually couldn’t breathe and had to go outside for 5 minutes to finish snorting.   

Luckily Bacon did not connect my laughing to her injury because when I got back after composing myself, the couch had been moved and the smashed egg retrieved and they were busy washing the dust and spider webs off it so they could eat it.  But the epic failure of this well-thought out trick had me in stitches for the rest of the day. Dad was of course mortified that he had hurled a missile and connected his little girl who is now sporting a red mark below her eye (luckily she didn’t get a shiner!) and was not impressed with my snorting from the kitchen.  

In my defense though, anyone who knows me, knows that funny comes first.  Once at school, I was walking down the stairs with my best friend Joan and she tripped and fell down the stairs, her suitcase went over the balustrade and she bounced down about 10 stairs and landed at the bottom with her skirt over her head.  People rushed to help her, someone fetched her bag and everyone was so concerned whether she was hurt, but where was I?  I couldn’t help her, I couldn’t even ask if she was okay because I was laughing so much I was battling to breathe, never mind formulate a question with any believable hint of concern!  She didn’t talk to me for a week!

What a weekend!!  Anyway Easter is still a week away so watch this space for more antics at home with my brood.