Tags
balls, costumes, Daisy Duck, Donald Duck, Easter, Easter Bunny, humor, Joseph Kony, kids, Madison Avenue, parenting, Santa, Virginia
I committed an Easter crime once. I was persuaded to dress up in a bunny costume for my daughter’s preschool class. The teacher opened the door and in I teetered, six-plus feet (counting the ears) of Easter excitement. For about a nanosecond, there was total silence while I held up my basket of plastic eggs. Then eighteen mouths were screaming for eighteen mothers, thirty-six eyes were filling with tears, and seventy-two tiny arms and legs were churning toward the door. We’re not even going to discuss what happened in eighteen little pairs of undies as I single-handedly drove the roomful of preschoolers ballistic with terror.
Maybe if that whole child-soldier/ kidnapping/ warlord gig doesn’t work out for him, Joseph Kony could find fulfillment dressing up as a giant bunny and appearing before unsuspecting preschoolers.
Looking back, I realize that if I’d gone into work one day to find an eleven-foot tall rabbit heading for me – with no prior memo announcing, “At 10:15AM today, staff will be terrorized by long-eared rodents twice your size,” – I would probably not have been nearly as nice about it as those preschoolers. After all, not one of them pressed charges or pulled a weapon even though it was hunting season. In SW Virginia. I’m just lucky I didn’t end up on the hood of someone’s car, tied down next to Bambi.
It’s not as if I didn’t know better. My kids have an unbroken string of bad experiences with costume-clad adults. The first time we did the Mouse, Donald Duck waddled up to us. He was reaching out to Child #2 when she hauled off and planted him a solid one straight to his – duckness. As I hustled the kids out of there, I noticed Daisy Duck was trying to help him up despite quacking up herself. (I’d apologize, but come on – you knew that was coming…)
Then there was the time we were in the grocery store. My four-year-old was busy analyzing the relative merits of the candy lining the checkout lane when he was accosted by a cookie-promoting elf whose head alone was at least as tall as my son. (The concept of selling cookies using a supersized elf head is yet another reflection of the extent of the drug problem on Madison Avenue.) The elf, who seemed directionally challenged, was being guided by a handler. “How would you like to meet the elf?” the handler asked my son.
“NO!” he screamed, racing for the exit and knocking down everything in his path. “NO, no, no, no…”
“How would you like to pay for the years of therapy we’re both going to need?” I asked the elf as I gave chase.
The fact is there is no real upside to costumed adults confronting my children. Take the time I brought Child #1 to see Santa in his mall chalet surrounded by several camera-waving teenaged helper elves. My daughter didn’t want anything to do with the whole setup, so she tried to escape as the elves herded her toward Santa. As he leaned down to her, she grabbed the pompoms on the end of his hat and started to pull back. One of Santa’s Helpers screamed, “She’s pulling Santa’s little balls off!” We never did get a photo of the event, because Santa had to go feed his reindeer immediately.
donofalltrades said:
There was an Easter bunny walking around Target. G$ saw him and froze to see what this waskally douchebag was up too. As he got closer, I was getting creeped out! Santa is one thing, but a giant rabbit? No thank you!
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barbtaub said:
Even though I am guilty, I still wonder about the thought process that says, “I know! Let’s dress up like gigantic creatures out of Mother Nature’s nightmares. Cause little kids just love that…”
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annesquared said:
So funny – my son always thought Santa was a terrorist in a red suit, but would fly into the big bunny’s arms for hugs and cuddles.
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barbtaub said:
I wish your son had been in that preschool class. I was one devastated bunny who could have used a hug.
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Karen Pruett Roper said:
I saw your post come in this afternoon while I was at work and delightedly chose to wait until I could savor it with a glass of wine at home. Now I’m cleaning the spray from the carpet . . . I too have been guilty of thoughtless dress up: A witch with very real looking warts should NOT answer the door at Halloween if kids of the appropriate age are trick or treating.
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barbtaub said:
I’m so sorry about the carpet. But thanks (I think) for letting me know your reaction to the post. And I love the witch with warts! Pictures?
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Karen Pruett Roper said:
The real message there, Barb, was the fact that I see you blog as something to “savor…with a glass of wine.” I’ll look for a photo. I know there is one: warts, blackened teeth and all.
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barbtaub said:
What an incredibly nice thing to say! You made my day.
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linda1633 said:
I am laughing so hard at this! I’m an adult and I’ve always thought those costume clad characters were kind of freaky. And still I tried to convince my darling little girl to jump up in their lap and have a conversation with them.
I am not a good mother.
Absolutely hilarious! I loved this.
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barbtaub said:
I know! We’re thinking ‘ photo for Grandma’, while our kid is thinking ‘Run! Save yourself!’
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Bastet said:
OMG!!! I’m laughing so hard that I won’t tell you about my knickers! We do live a a wierd world when you come to think of it…I’m surprised there haven’t been more signs of paranoia in our weastern world!
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barbtaub said:
Well, we do start them early. I remember learning the world’s creepiest prayer: “Now I lay me down to sleep. I pray the Lord my soul to keep. And if I die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.” You think I got much sleep after that one?
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Bastet said:
Oh my yes…I remember that one too! I think that’s when I decided to give up bed time prayers for bed time stories…even Rumpelstiltskin and The Big Bad Wolf left me feeling safer and cozier under my blankets.
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Amanda said:
His ‘duckness’…snort. So easy to picture. And there is no forgiveness for ‘quacking up’. I realize it couldn’t be avoided but an apology would still have been appropriate. Nay, mandatory.
With me, it’s clowns. Even those old-fashioned dolls with one eye lid that closes and one that won’t. Heebie jeebies, just thinking about it.
And poor Santa! How could he go on without his little balls? Lesson in there, somewhere.
Great post, Barb. Made me laugh out loud and that’s always a great thing to do in the morning.
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barbtaub said:
Sigh. If I must. So sorry about the quacking … As punishment I’m writing “I will not make bad puns before breakfast” 100 times on the blackboard.
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barbtaub said:
But wasn’t that Santa & clowns picture just the. scariest. thing. ever?
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Amanda said:
Scary doesn’t even cover it. Creepy doesn’t even cover it. What were those…those…creatures across from Santa? And where did you find that picture? Poor little girl couldn’t even run.
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Amara said:
Haha, yes, dressing up is really an excuse to terrorise little kids. Really, we should stop pretending it’s otherwise and just embrace it, like they do it over here:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Krampus
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barbtaub said:
Sorry for late reply. So funny you should mention this. My current WIP (supposed to be a short story but it’s morphed into a novella and is trying very hard to become a full book…) is about the Krampus.
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Jadi Campbell said:
I burst out laughing at the first paragraph! What a great way to kick-start my day… I will be reading more of you in the future for sure (while never, ever inviting you to a costume party)! —Jadi
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barbtaub said:
Thanks for the follow. But really — it’s just my kids you can’t invite. (Does that sound too needy?)
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nancywalker25 said:
Hi Barb, What a hoot! I’m still laughing about Santa’s little balls. My friend and mentor, Mary Rosenblum gave me the name of your site as an example of what I could do with a blog. Or what I could try to do! Ok, I’ll work on those widgets, thanks so much for writing!
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openendedcomment said:
Hilarious! My daughter was traumatized by a basketball mascot at age six. To this day, she hates all mascots.
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barbtaub said:
Mascots. What are they thinking?
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Parking Space Bagel said:
Loved this post! So funny! I was never afraid of 6 foot tall bunnies or elves, but CLOWNS—now that’s a completely different story! Lol
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Patty O said:
Fantastic story! Reminds me of one Easter when we couldn’t get our 4 year old to sleep in her own bed. We’d continually find her on the couch. So…what did I do…what any wonderful “mother of the year” would do…I told her she’d better sleep in her own bed or the Easter Bunny would poop on her head. Needless to say, there were Easter bunny tracks all the way up to the couch and squished up raisins next to her head as she woke up on Easter morning. To which she said: “I HATE THE EASTER BUNNY!” The poor kid…no therapy needed (yet) and she’s 19!
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dmswriter said:
Hi Barb- Susie sent me! Love it – and really, what’s the deal with the giant-sized heads on these creatures? I never really thought about it until you mentioned it.
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barbtaub said:
From the What-Were-They-Sniffing files: So some guy on Madison Avenue does a few lines and says, “Got it! We’ll make a really scary big head creature and use it on little kids. Cause that will sell stuff for sure!”
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