The E.B. Pays a Visit

Tiffany's mom Patty came to visit for Easter weekend, and, coincidentally, the Easter bunny stopped by too. He pooped candy and coins all over our apartment floor while we were sleeping.

I found the coins before I was supposed to when the paper boy buzzed our apartment at 4:00 a.m. Stumbling bleary-eyed to the door, I thought Patty had somehow spilled big drops of water all over our carpet, but it was pennies and nickels and dimes and quarters that I was feeling under my feet.

Later in the morning, I pretended like I hadn't seen them. Tiffany and I waited--just like my brother and I used to wait for our parents all those Easters and Christmases ago--for Patty to start moving before we stuck our heads out our bedroom door. Never mind that we're almost 30. We were grinning ear-to-ear, ready to follow the coins and candy to our Easter baskets.

In theory.

"I found one," Tiffany said smugly, putting a pot of water on for tea.

"How is that even possible?" I moaned, crawling around scooping up trail after trail of Reeses peanut butter eggs, jelly beans and currency to one dead end after another. "Thank God we just vacuumed."

"I grew up with this woman," Tiffany said.

"It's not a very big apartment, Rebequita," Patty said, taunting me.

"It's huge!" I said. "The biggest we've ever had!"

I finally found one basket in the closet, stuffed in a crate with our bike locks and the reflective vest I used to make Tiffany wear on the scooter. But it was Tiffany's basket. And apparently there's a rule about finding your own. So back on the trail I went. I opened all our cabinets and the oven and the broiler/drawer. Finally, I stood staring blankly at the microwave...

"Are we nuking a pastel-colored gift bag with bunny ear handles?" I asked, triumphant at last.

Anyway, as you all know, there's nothing I like better than coins, and, who doesn't love candy and moms? By my quite literal calculations, it was a delightful weekend all around.