April's Real Blog

Sunday, April 08, 2007

Happy Easter, Peeps!

Hey, so it's Easter, ppl! Have a Happy one! Check this comment that Mike posted v. v. early this A.M.:
April,

Formerly little sis. When it comes to Easter, there is nothing like having an elder family member give wisdom to a young child. This Easter, I was looking forward to our traditional Easter Egg hunt and chocolate bunny-eating celebration, and seeing how “hopped up” my children would get from the consumption of sugar, when my wife Deanna said these ominous words, “Now that we are planning to be homeowners in this community, Michael, I think it is time for us to take our children to church. It would help become more a part of the community.” My mouth dropped, and the rest of the family, which I will note included you, suddenly disappeared. Deanna then said in a loud voice, “But we can go shopping for Easter dresses.” This managed to lure my mother out of hiding, because she claimed she wanted to get a new scarf to de-frumpify her dress. Whether she was successful or not, I will leave that judgment to others.

Easter came and in order to beat the crowds, we opted to go to a very early service (early enough so I can write this to you) and it still be on Easter. Deanna was in her pink Easter dress, and my daughter was in her purple one and a white sweater. I was wearing a green jacket and striped green tie, which Deanna had picked out for me when she went shopping. I felt like a golfer, but I restrained myself from mentioning it to Deanna, who was still a little mad from what I said to her yesterday. Our son went into hiding, and then, as you know, mom said, “It’s time to go, April.” Then you said, “I’ll go find Robin by offering him some cake.” Then you disappeared and it got to be so late waiting for you and my son, we decided to leave without you (which I suspect was your plan all along).

The four of us (me, Deanna, mom, my daughter) went to the service, and as predicted, it was early enough so that the place was respectably full but not excessively so. I sat in my seat, very nervous because (to be honest), it had been so long since I had been in a church, I had forgotten what it was about. None of the women with me seemed to be bothered, and my daughter kicked her feet back and forth casually waiting for the service to start.

Once the service started, my daughter ‘s attention was initially rivetted, as she leaned forward with her elbow on her kneee. Then we saw a man and woman in robes speaking and gesticulating to the audience. It was at this point I thought I saw the man who assaulted Elizabeth, Howard Bunt, sitting directly in front of us with 2 burly women sitting next to him. I tried not to attract his attention, but drew my daughter closer to me in case he decided to turn around and pull my shirt or grab my daughter’s sweater.

Then we had to stand and look at this book kept in a rack in front of us. My daughter stood with us, but she was too little to be able to read the book. Then we sat down again, and I was so nervous, I had to take my right hand and hold on to Deanna for moral support.

Then my daughter leaned down in the pew with her little legs spread apart. Mom leaned over to her and said, “Meredith. Stop leaning down like you’re going to go roadside. It’s bad enough you look like Becky McGuire. You don’t have to act like her.” Then Deanna shushed mom and told her not to use that term with a 4-year-old in church. Mom seemed appropriately embarrassed and didn’t say any more.

Then my daughter turned to me. I was afraid she was going to ask me what “roadside” meant, but instead she asked me, “Daddy?” Fortunately, that was a question I could easily answer. I said, “Yes, Meredith!” But much to my surprise, Meredith had a followup question. She asked, “When do they get to the part where Jesus meets the Easter bunny?” My mind was racing. I thought back through It’s the Easter Beagle, Charlie Brown, but I couldn’t remember any part which talked about Jesus meeting the Easter Bunny, or even the Easter Beagle. Listening carefully to the robed people in front, they seemed to be convinced Jesus had something to do with Easter, so it was possible a meeting took place.

I looked at Deanna, and she appeared to be just as confused as I was. Then mom spoke up and said, “Jesus died, an’ in free days, he came alive again! An’ ev’ybody was so happy they made hats! Den, the Easter Bunny liked the hats, so he gived ev’ybody some eggs an’ some chocolate.” I said, “Where did you learn that mom?” Mom said, “April went to Sunday School once a long time ago, and that’s what she told me. My daughter said, “Thanks for telling me, Grandma Elly.” And Grandma Elly beamed.

That’s what happened.

Love,
Michael Patterson
Mike, yeah, so when I told Mom that stuff? I was five! I can't believe Mom never realized a got the Easter story a bit mixed up. This reminds me of the stand-up routine where Ellen DeGeneres sez that Santa Claus didn't come along until Jesus was in grade four!

BTW, when I found Robin, he was curled up on Edgar's lil doggie bed. The poor guy was so pooped, I didn't have the heart 2 wake him. Dad and I R gonna take him 2 a l8r service this morning so he doesn't hafta miss out. Liz sez she can't go cuz she has cramps.

So, the d8 last nite w/Ger. Très Chère was a v. v. nice restaurant. And Ger was v. v. attentive. What I didn't realize was that his "marriage advisor" was going 2 B sitting @ one adjacent table, and that my "childhood sweetheart/potential Patterson spouse" consultant from the Johnston Institute for Better Living, Diana Artemis, Esq., Ph.D., Ed.D., would be @ another. And they'd B taking notes on their laptops and making screen captures w/lil webcams. That was kinda weird. But Ger was v. v. sweet.

Apes

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1 Comments:

  • At 1:49 PM, Anonymous gerald forsythe said…

    Dearest April flower,

    That was not my marital advisor. That was a professional videographer/stenographer that he hired to record the event of our date at Tres Chere. My advisor wishes to remain anonymous. He says he gets enough harassment at home as it is, so he doesn't need any connected to his work as my advisor, which would certainly happen, seeing as the issue of any Patterson marriage is contentious.

    By the way, my darling, thank you for accompanying me on our date and allowing me to bestow upon you one pearl necklace (the jewelry kind) as well as many chaste hugs and two kisses (without tongue).

    My advisor has counseled me that, since our date seems to have "done the trick," so to speak, I should abandon my street-hip persona of G-Dog and return to the sweetly romantic stylings of Gerald Millicent Delaney-Forsythe. He said, quite wisely, "No street punk has ever successfully wooed a Patterson or Richards woman." And he would know. Of course, I adopted the G-Dog persona when it appeared that you were going to be a more modern, street-wise, misbehaving kind of girl, but your speech about the difference between secrets and scores clued me in that you are still just a sweet, old-fashioned girl at heart, who believes in the traditional values of "women do not like sex" and "women are always right, and men are always buffoons." I'm sure you will see that my ability to adapt to your wildly changing persona makes me your perfect life mate.

    Devotedly yours, Gerald

     

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