On a recent trip to Target, I found myself in the Easter aisle instead of the laundry aisle (where I was supposed to be getting detergent) because, A. Ross wasn’t with me, and B. Well, chocolate. HELLO. and I thought to myself, What kind of (still totally not ready for a baby!) people would we be if we didn’t bring an Easter basket to our favorite little chickadee? (Remember? The real baby from that dinner when Ross told the waitress we had a “baby on the way”?) What kind of people? Not very awesome people, I thought.
So I grabbed my phone to reach Ross on our very favorite mode of daytime conversation and the typing went something like this:
Katie: What do you think about bringing an Easter basket over to The Baby?
(Because I tend to actually call her “the baby,” and because this blog is meant to give you a more-detailed-than-necessary look into our lives and not ruin the privacy of our innocent friends, our favorite little fifteen-month-old will henceforth be referred to as “The Baby”.)
Ross: I don’t really think she can eat candy yet.
Katie: I’m pretty sure I can come up with something appropriate.
Ross: You’re so thoughtful.
Katie: That’s so true.
I came home from Target with a baby Easter basket I was pretty darn proud of: A purple felt pail from Target’s One Spot (that’s $1 Ross, ONE DOLLAR!), some of that annoying-but-come-on-what’s-an-Easter-basket-without-it crinkle grass, Starburst jellybeans and Robin’s Eggs.
Luckily I was able to find some of those more “appropriate” baby things I so smugly told Ross I’d find. Baby on Grand yielded a sun hat and a plush baby bird that squeaks when little children (or me) start thrashing it around with reckless abandon. Put it all together and omigosh you guys,
Look. How. Cute.
Our first attempt at Easter Basket Drop-Off didn’t end up happening and what do you mean we’re supposed to just supposed to let the Easter basket full of candy sit there until we can finally deliver it? Ross was all, We’ve gotta stop! And I’m all, Have you seen the candy bags I brought home? There’s more where that came from.
Delivery time arrived and (yes we refilled the basket before we brought it over) The Baby loved it. We were pretty thrilled to see her boppin’ that little bird around and even got a “Buuurd!” when we asked her the token, “What’s that called?” The Baby is smart, you guys.
Later on when she got a little fussy Ross was Mr. Hero when he busted out the Buuurd! and The Baby was all Yay! Lemme at it! and no more tears and her parents were all, Awhh, Ross is going to be such a good Dad!
And while I’m lucky that’s very true,
Who bought the bird in the first place?