Here comes Hobo Cottontail!

Once you are a certain age, holiday anticipations are very, very dissimilar from those of your youth. I remember my sister and I bouncing off the walls of our room at 3:30am Christmas morning because our father had threatened to kill us if we woke him one minute before 5. I also recall nearly stroking out from excitement from October 29th until 5:30pm on October 31st, when our parents would finally open the front door and set us free to Trick or Treat until we passed out from sheer exhaustion. However in your adult years the fervor that comes with each holiday is remarkably different. There is the weeks of planning and debating over which house the gathering will be held (usually my sister's - she has the good house), accompanied by the assignment of potluck dishes to bring (you should know that if you are always assigned rolls and soda, they think you can't cook). Then there is the inevitable last minute time changes that come with family emergencies, travel complications, and the schedule conflicts tied to extended and blended families. But then the day comes and the fun really begins!

Today was Easter and I was blessed enough to spend it with my family. My husband, my kids and their kids, my mom, and my sister and her family. It was a crowded house but definitely full of people who love one another. There were no fights or heated debates (One Christmas my Aunt broke down in tears when someone told her that her theory that Tupac was still alive and living on an island somewhere was completely insane). No practical jokes were played (During a Thanksgiving gathering, we waited until my mother went into the kitchen to check the turkey and then we rearranged all of the living room furniture - when she returned we were all sitting down watching t.v. as if nothing had changed) . Nobody got drunk (I remember my extremely inebriated Uncle paying me $20, one 4th of July, to find his wallet at the bottom of our pool. I dived for 3 hours... it was in his pocket). It was a perfect day... almost.

I got up early to cook my contributions to Easter dinner, fried chicken and spaghetti (Note to white people: Black families do cook the traditional favorites, ham, mac 'n' cheese, potato salad, etc... but we just usually add some other stuff. Black women like to show-off a little in the kitchen. Plus, two of my boys live on their own now, so when I get to feed them I like to make their favorites!) Things went well. Nothing burned! We met at my mom's house about 1:30 and all of the kids looked beyond adorable (Honestly you could barely tell what hellions they usually are). The kids played hide and seek until it was time to eat and my beautiful niece led the prayer before we all made our plates. After lunch, my sons slipped out to the front yard and hide Easter Eggs and candy. When they came in, we announced that we had just spotted the Easter Bunny hopping by and the kids should get their baskets and help us find anything he may have left. I grabbed my camera, the kids ran to the front door and I started onto the porch. And that is when I witnessed one of the most unbelievable things I have ever seen (and I promise you, I am not exaggerating). Two homeless people cheerfully collecting the candy hidden around the yard. They were smiling and frolicking, as if they had come across some sort of sugary jackpot! In that moment, I realized that this might have been the only joy they felt on what should be a joyous holiday. Searching for the candy most likely brought back memories of their youth and carefree times in their lives. For that one moment, they were not John and Jane Doe in bunks 4 and 5; they were kids again. Kids experiencing that long lost holiday excitement of finding something sweet and decadent concealed in a bunch of daffodils or patch of dewy grass. So, I did what any loving and compassionate person would of done. I look right at them and screamed, "Put that shit down! That is for the children! Are you fucking crazy? Put it all down and get out of here." They threw it all down and walked away mumbling something about not knowing they couldn't have it and how they found it fair and square. I probably would have, at least momentarily, felt some shame about my reaction, if I had not been almost immediately stampeded by niece and grandchildren. They, too, smiled and frolicked, yelling "I found some " and "Jackpot" and I couldn't feel bad. This is their time to be excited and light-hearted about the holidays. John and Jane Doe's time has come and gone. It is my job to protect my babies' youthful innocence from anyone, including Hobo Cottontail, who tries to steal it away.

I hope you all had a wonderful holiday!