Hippity-Hoppity-Boom

I don’t know what I expected to happen this morning when I got out of bed, but it sure wasn’t what happened. Let me clarify that. It was Independence Day.  I was prepared for the normal parades, fireworks, and celebrating. The way the day would unfold was a complete shock to me, though. Really, any day is a surprise for any of us.

The day dawned bright and beautiful. It had rained the night before enough to create puddles here and there. Clouds were still wisping across the sky, and each seemed to form its own unique shape: a bear, a boat, a witch’s hat, etc. An overall promise of an amazing day for bringing in the Fourth of July.

As I stared out of the kitchen window, I noticed something odd. I was looking at something so strange and out of place that I had trouble processing just what I was seeing. I stood staring for so long, holding my coffee halfway to my lips without drinking, that my wife began to worry that something was wrong with me. 

I motioned for her to come near and asked what she saw out in our backyard. I had to know if I was the only one who could see this, and therefore crazy. Feeling insecurely impatient, I bopped from foot to foot waiting for Lisa’s response. Rubbing my hands together, could feel my stomach clench in fear. Maybe I was seeing things and what I saw wasn’t out there. Sure, sure, that’s it, I thought, hugging myself tight.

Just when I was sure I was completely crazy, Lisa turned away from the window, back to me. Her face was completely pale, and her eyes held a wild look. She pointed out into the yard. Is that Peter Rabbit? My wife asked.

I rushed to the window to look out again. What? She’d completely seen past what I had seen, and added a new detail to the mix. I looked to where Lisa was pointing, just in time to see a bunny in overalls and carrying an egg basket disappear into the neighbor’s yard.

Together, my wife and I rushed outside, both tripping over a basket full of chocolate Easter bunnies and other Easter novelties on the deck in our blind rush. Surprised, we both jumped up and looked at the mess we had made, then, as one, Lisa and I twisted our heads to see the colored eggs spread across the back lawn. 

Isn’t it July? I ask.

We’ve already had Easter this year, Lisa answered me.

I step off the deck, onto the ground nearest the closest multi-colored egg. I bent to pick it up and held it in my hand. I could hear my wife playing with a wind-up Easter chick.

All through the neighborhood, we could hear others marveling over the appearance of Easter in July. I ran inside to grab my phone to document this, reprimanding myself for not thinking of this sooner. Entering the kitchen, I grabbed the phone off the counter and noticed that my box of fireworks was missing from beside the door. I hollered for Lisa to come inside for a moment to ask her if she’d moved them.

She informed me she hadn’t touched the box, which was all the more confusing since we were the only two in the house this morning. The twins would be driving over with their friends to the lake house later this evening to meet us.

I went to the front door, unlocked it, and ran out onto the front lawn trying to catch the culprit. Then it hit me. I unlocked the door. What the hell. How did it disappear from the house then?

As I stood out in the yard trying to figure things out, other people began pouring out of their front doors. Looking from house to house, I see that each Independence Decoration is now defaced with a spray-painted egg or bunny ears. 

It’s over a hundred degrees, and someone thinks Easter in July is a good idea. Many of my neighbors have mentioned seeing a rabbit in overalls. I don’t know what’s going on, but it looks like we’ll be having a second Easter this year.
I sure do wish I knew where those fireworks went.