IOU Easter Bunny


Guys. We IOU’d Easter.

It’s a long story, but the point is this . . . we forgot about the Easter Bunny.

I was laying in bed Easter morning, thinking what a beautiful, wonderful day it was, pondering peaceful thoughts of my Savior, when the hubs and I heard our son burst forth from his bedroom proclaiming to the world, “IT’S EASTER!! WE’RE GOING TO DYE EGGS! YAY!! (SISTER), WAKE UP AND LET’S FIND OUR EASTER BASKETS!!”

I’d be lying if I said my thoughts of heavenly things didn’t go south quickly with a swear word or two.

We forgot. Completely.


There were no hidden eggs. There were no baskets. I didn’t even have any eggs.

I kid you not, the kids searched everywhere. It would be hilarious if it wasn’t so . . . not hilarious.

I ran to the laundry room and drew up a note from ol’ E. Bunny that said, “Your door was locked! I’ll come back tomorrow!” which the hubs taped to the back of the house while I was helping confused children get ready for church.

Seriously. We IOU’d Easter Bunny.

It gets worse. How do you put together Easter baskets when you observe the Sabbath day? Without going to a store? I’ll just let you ponder that one for a minute or two.

In the end, it worked out. Our children are not traumatized. Mostly.

Are you ready for the kicker? The punchline of all punchlines?

A few days later, we forgot the tooth fairy.

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Ba-dum tchhhh.