The Easter bunny forgot to come last night. (Last I checked though, he was breathing really hard.) He forgot because yesterday he baked two cakes, two pot roasts, a ham and a turkey, made two emergency runs to the grocery store and one to the next-weekend birthday restaurant, then washed down his Zyrtec with a bourbon. Or two. Or five.
So at four a.m. this morning...that would be the four o'clock when you are ASLEEP, all fucking hell broke lose. The problem with a four a.m. crisis (notice how gracefully I dodged the plural dilemma there) is that if the Easter bunny is hiding under the pillow mumbling reassuring excuses, HE CAN'T BE FILLING THAT DAMN BASKET NOW, can he?
The forthcoming dilemma will involve the fact that the Easter bunny actually left the baskets OUTSIDE the front door, so they weren't actually NOT HERE they were just NOT IN PLAIN SIGHT. There's a fifty-fifty chance this will work.
Providing the chicken doesn't get to the baskets first. That one-upmanship thing with the chicken and the bunny.