possibly, the most anticipated easter we’ll ever experience. weeks of waiting & postponements of regular life, to wake up just after midnight, and then in the earliest hours of the morning, to see: did the easter bunny come? are there eggs? there have been so many disappointments, can we have this?

so it goes, in the time of coronavirus. a lovesong of home cooked meals. an endless parade of cups, plates, spoons, knives for peeling apples, and the coffee mugs, oh the coffee mugs. three meals around the kitchen table, crafts, and snacks & school.

this easter is: bubbles in the backyard, and along the sidewalk. easter eggs in shoes, pockets, and between plastic rainbow cups; one stuffed in a dinosaur’s jaws just for laughs. flour bunny prints on the floor. thrifted wire bunny baskets, bunny candles, from before. got dressed for 5 minutes, let my hair down for 5 minutes. blew the candles out with wishes after dinner, the best kind, a new tradition. eleventeen deviled eggs. bubbles, again. and then beetlejuice, because we are who we are, even in this.

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