Weekend Winks – Hippity Hoppity Style

Money hunt with the help from Captain.

Money filled eggs + Skinny Pirates = Perfect Easter

As Easter found its way to Nashville yesterday, I packed up the kit cats and headed out to see what the bunny left behind at my parent’s house.

Over the river...

Ted is the best navigator ever – or so he thinks.

New Cat was a little less chill, as he howled the meow of his people the entire 30 minute ride. That being said, this car ride was the longest one we’ve shared yet and the first time he’s been in a kennel that wasn’t whisking him away to the vet.

New Cat

Not so happy New Cat.

After the incessant bawling, Mama needed an Easter cocktail immediately upon arrival.

Drove me to drink.

Driven to drink.

While sipping on refreshments, we got to FaceTime with the twins in Iowa. My niece has taken a shine to the phone (naturally) and being able to see herself on the screen.

Getting down with her bad self

Hello Gorgeous.

Cute Faces

Double the fun – definitely double the trouble.

My buddy The Wandering Poet spread the bunny love by decorating eggs with his Twitter Krew.

Krew

Best batch of eggs this year.

Which reminded me of the years full of egg hunts with cousins and our beautiful makeshift Easter baskets – plastic grocery bags.

Old school baskets. Trashtacular baskets

Trashtacular Easter at its finest.

While I didn’t have any cousins to trample, I was able to take my sweet time in collecting eggs and finding my Easter basket (I was very good this year…if you believe it).

Easter mania

Double fisting.

Tedstar refused to move from the chick pail full of eggs scooped up from our annual money hunt (instead of candy, my bunny stuffs the plastic with cold hard cash). And this year, none of the eggs jingled when shook with the usual dimes, nickles and pennies.

Guard cat.

Guard cat.

Score!

Score!

What did get Teddy up and running strolling was a Toblerone bar that he knew he couldn’t have – but tempted himself anyway.

Lured with chocolate

Inconspicuous fail.

Aside from our annual money hunt there is another family tradition that involves the cheap, Easter basket grass and my dad.

This guy loves him some Easter grass.

This guy loves him some Easter grass.

Being that I can’t help myself from leaving a trail of this stringy shit everywhere like my own version of the Tasmanian devil, my dad once made the mistake of voicing his disdain for my messiness with the fake plastic grass.

Easter Grass Galore

Case  in point.

In the past I’ve hidden piles of this festive filler under his pillow, in his shoes, in the bed, etc…So this year the E. Bunny got smart and inserted paper grass into my basket instead, hoping to thwart finding strings of plastic on the floor until Christmas.

But…I can’t be stopped.

What's behind his shower curtain?

A little shower surprise…

Peter Cottontail was here.

The CBXB Bunny was here.

After planting the Monday am prank, the cats and I high tailed it back to our mini manse, where we closed the fabulous weekend with one last cocktail.

Easters taste so good.

Easters taste so good.

We hope Peter Cottontail was as kind to you as he was to Nashville.

Cheers!

CBXB

CBXB!

Griswold Style Easter

Remember setting your Easter basket out empty, hoping with all of your heart the bunny would leave loot in the form of chocolate, candy, chocolate, candy and maybe a package of peeps?

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My sister and I with our ever ready Easter baskets from childhood…still putting them to good use!

Well these fancy Easter baskets can be messy. Especially if you like playing in the artificial grass (I for one love hiding this grass all over my parent’s house just to ruffle feathers – in shoes, purses, pillowcases, etc…I know what you’re thinking and yes I’m a grown ass woman. Aren’t you glad I’m not your offspring?).

Easter grass mania!

Do you like my green hair?

If you find yourself in despair over an annoying adult child’s tendency to play in the fake grass or if you’re so old that your basket has rotted or if you just don’t feel like getting in the garage to get the damn Easter shit down from whatever high as the sky shelf it’s nestled on, here’s an alternative for you that my family uses from time to time.

Just open your kitchen closet where you stash all of those Target/Wal-Mart/grocery of choice plastic bags (because you know you have 1,435 just lying around), grab a handful and presto chango! You have quick, easy Easter baskets. My family first thought of this idea when we were at Aunt Nancy’s ready to have an egg hunt but all basketless. The horror.

Who needs baskets when you have plastic bags?

On your mark….get set…go get those eggs!

Yeah, I know I come from a family of classy geniuses (we don’t refer to ourselves as the Griswolds for nothing).

You’re welcome for the idea.

CBXB

CBXB!