Tag Archives: Easter basket grass

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Easter Eggstravaganza!

Oh the Easter bunny will be hopping all over the planet this weekend and I can’t wait to drink one too many Skinny Pirates and pass out before he burrows his way into my mini manse Saturday night.

Eggs, Captain and a cat shirt.. A heavenly Easter for me.

Eggs, Captain and a cat shirt…
A heavenly Easter for me.

In past years, Easter consisted of the bunny dropping off Underoos, with my sister and I traipsing through the house like manias scaring nothing but the camera.

Easters

Tough bunnies.

As we got older, celebrations consisted of egg hunts with cousins, battling for treasures scattered in the yard careful not to knock over the four year old among us (well, I don’t know if we were careful about it but he remained standing).

Who needs a basket when you got plastic?

Who needs a basket when you got plastic?

Traditions have long remained in the family and we’ve had the same baskets since our first Easters (I know, I know. My basket is not the pink one. No clue what in the fuck the bunny was thinking).

Two

Two kids, two antique baskets.

What would a family tradition be here at CBXB without a little sneaky trashiness?  You see, this man loathes the fake grass used in baskets.

Grass hater.

Grass hater.

Since Dada CBXB whined, cried and carried on one year about how the ‘damn grass’ gets all over the house, I’ve been more than happy to always hide it in the most unsuspecting places. Under his pillow, in his shoes and last year, the shower.

Shower surprise.

This grass needs cleaned.

What’s not to love about little skinny pieces of plastic that can be found in couch crevices, door hinges, car mats, toilet seats, dryer vents and bathroom drains all 365 days until next Easter?

Easter grass. The gift that keeps on giving the whole year through.

Easter grass.
The gift that keeps on giving the whole year through.

Now that we have twin baby bunnies in the mix, I’ve spent Easter in a new way since we can’t always get together being 1,000 miles apart.

basket hoarders

Totally not excited to see the bunny.

Presently, I get to double fist baskets all day long.

Double

Who has my Skinny Pirate?

One for me and one for my pussy. (You didn’t think I was getting greedy did you? And yes, you New Cat lovers, he gets a basket too but is such a big, fat baby that he hides whenever there is any kind of commotion going on, OK?)

Easter King.

King Ted.

Whatever your Easter traditions may be, here’s hoping the day is filled with glee!

Cheers!

CBXB

 

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Weekend Winks – Hippity Hoppity Style

Money hunt with the help from Captain.

Money filled eggs + Skinny Pirates = Perfect Easter

As Easter found its way to Nashville yesterday, I packed up the kit cats and headed out to see what the bunny left behind at my parent’s house.

Over the river...

Ted is the best navigator ever – or so he thinks.

New Cat was a little less chill, as he howled the meow of his people the entire 30 minute ride. That being said, this car ride was the longest one we’ve shared yet and the first time he’s been in a kennel that wasn’t whisking him away to the vet.

New Cat

Not so happy New Cat.

After the incessant bawling, Mama needed an Easter cocktail immediately upon arrival.

Drove me to drink.

Driven to drink.

While sipping on refreshments, we got to FaceTime with the twins in Iowa. My niece has taken a shine to the phone (naturally) and being able to see herself on the screen.

Getting down with her bad self

Hello Gorgeous.

Cute Faces

Double the fun – definitely double the trouble.

My buddy The Wandering Poet spread the bunny love by decorating eggs with his Twitter Krew.

Krew

Best batch of eggs this year.

Which reminded me of the years full of egg hunts with cousins and our beautiful makeshift Easter baskets – plastic grocery bags.

Old school baskets. Trashtacular baskets

Trashtacular Easter at its finest.

While I didn’t have any cousins to trample, I was able to take my sweet time in collecting eggs and finding my Easter basket (I was very good this year…if you believe it).

Easter mania

Double fisting.

Tedstar refused to move from the chick pail full of eggs scooped up from our annual money hunt (instead of candy, my bunny stuffs the plastic with cold hard cash). And this year, none of the eggs jingled when shook with the usual dimes, nickles and pennies.

Guard cat.

Guard cat.

Score!

Score!

What did get Teddy up and running strolling was a Toblerone bar that he knew he couldn’t have – but tempted himself anyway.

Lured with chocolate

Inconspicuous fail.

Aside from our annual money hunt there is another family tradition that involves the cheap, Easter basket grass and my dad.

This guy loves him some Easter grass.

This guy loves him some Easter grass.

Being that I can’t help myself from leaving a trail of this stringy shit everywhere like my own version of the Tasmanian devil, my dad once made the mistake of voicing his disdain for my messiness with the fake plastic grass.

Easter Grass Galore

Case  in point.

In the past I’ve hidden piles of this festive filler under his pillow, in his shoes, in the bed, etc…So this year the E. Bunny got smart and inserted paper grass into my basket instead, hoping to thwart finding strings of plastic on the floor until Christmas.

But…I can’t be stopped.

What's behind his shower curtain?

A little shower surprise…

Peter Cottontail was here.

The CBXB Bunny was here.

After planting the Monday am prank, the cats and I high tailed it back to our mini manse, where we closed the fabulous weekend with one last cocktail.

Easters taste so good.

Easters taste so good.

We hope Peter Cottontail was as kind to you as he was to Nashville.

Cheers!

CBXB

CBXB!

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Griswold Style Easter

Remember setting your Easter basket out empty, hoping with all of your heart the bunny would leave loot in the form of chocolate, candy, chocolate, candy and maybe a package of peeps?

blah

My sister and I with our ever ready Easter baskets from childhood…still putting them to good use!

Well these fancy Easter baskets can be messy. Especially if you like playing in the artificial grass (I for one love hiding this grass all over my parent’s house just to ruffle feathers – in shoes, purses, pillowcases, etc…I know what you’re thinking and yes I’m a grown ass woman. Aren’t you glad I’m not your offspring?).

Easter grass mania!

Do you like my green hair?

If you find yourself in despair over an annoying adult child’s tendency to play in the fake grass or if you’re so old that your basket has rotted or if you just don’t feel like getting in the garage to get the damn Easter shit down from whatever high as the sky shelf it’s nestled on, here’s an alternative for you that my family uses from time to time.

Just open your kitchen closet where you stash all of those Target/Wal-Mart/grocery of choice plastic bags (because you know you have 1,435 just lying around), grab a handful and presto chango! You have quick, easy Easter baskets. My family first thought of this idea when we were at Aunt Nancy’s ready to have an egg hunt but all basketless. The horror.

Who needs baskets when you have plastic bags?

On your mark….get set…go get those eggs!

Yeah, I know I come from a family of classy geniuses (we don’t refer to ourselves as the Griswolds for nothing).

You’re welcome for the idea.

CBXB

CBXB!