The Easter Bunny is the lesser of the childhood mythical deities. He's above the tooth fairy somewhat (after all, he does bring candy) but much farther down the rung than Santa, who is, you know, the Grand Poobah of all childhood mythical deities.
The Easter Bunny brings Barbies to my house. This year, Barbie almost smothered in her basket, wired tightly into her pink convertible, wrapped in 6000 yards of pink cellophane but thankfully none of that shredded grass. She was buried in various candy products, and it had been a rough hop in that basket. Mia had helpfully drawn a huge Easter Egg on our sidewalk that had an arrow pointing to our door, in case the Easter Bunny had been hitting the Bloody Marys, pregaming for Easter Lunch and might have missed us.
I wasn't sad to see Michigan State lose to Butler; I was mad. The Spartans did not bring their best game to Indy. However, I was thrilled for Butler; that's what March Madness is all about. Who had ever hear of Gongaza before they suddenly showed up during Sweet Sixteen all those years ago? Lehigh made it to the dance, LEHIGH. There's always lots of nail biters, hearbreakers and big surprises.
Martin's turning forty this week. He's already an avid model railroader and has asked me to start buying the "special" ice cream; next, he'll have to be careful not to poop his pants when he sneezes, since he's old now.
I had a job interview last Thursday, my first in over three years. I had a second interview today, and start with an orientation next Monday.