Day Thirty

I think it's important to have things to look forward to, so of course I preordered donuts and planned for a latte from Anchor & Anvil this past weekend. Support local, yinz, and make sure your rare trips out into the wild are very worthwhile.

Donuts and lattes are DEFINITELY very worthwhile.

That little pre-orchestrated trip was how I happened to find myself in the car, headed home just in time for lunch. I had a latte at my side and a giant box of donuts, so I was in no hurry. Everyone who has been locked at home with their kids for the past month knows exactly what I'm talking about. Speed limits? I used to think they were minimum recommendations of speed. Now? Now I think my car will explode if I get within 10mph of the posted limit. I better slow down. More. Just in case. It's never a bad idea to spend a few more minutes in the car all alone with the peace and quiet.

It really was a pretty great morning.

But then my preference for going it slow was tested. I came across a train of fire trucks and they were in no hurry at all. It was obvious why and that was because I had stumbled onto the Easter bunny.

Like basically every local township, we had an Easter Bunny riding around on a fire truck Saturday morning. He arrived with much fanfare at our house hours earlier, much to the delight of Mila, but it's a big township. He had lots of places to drive by. And apparently he needed to drive right where I was headed.

Slowly.

So slowly.

Which is why I had time to process the bigger situation as it was happening.

There's a trailer park along that road. It's a small, rundown trailer park that often gives me pause. There are holes in roofs and sheets of plastic covering gaps where weather has beaten through the protection of a wall. A casual glance would make you think every trailer is inhabitable, but look closer. There's a carefully tended vegetable garden at the end of the road. Toys are piled up in one yard. Cars come and go. Not only are people living in those homes, families are living in those homes.

It's unconscionable. I have many times thought about how just $1000 could dramatically change the path those people are on. Fixing a roof, for example, or providing a reliable car or any number of things could turn the tide. For what it's worth, the trailer park is less than 1/2 mile from a neighborhood filled with homes that cost upwards of $700,000. The inequality in our society is grotesque.

Go ahead. Try and convince me that a single resident of that trailer park works less than someone who lives in one those big houses. You know some just say poor people are lazy so they can sleep at night. It's not true at all.

Anyway, as the fire trucks crawled closer to the trailer park, I saw them. A boy and a girl, probably 3 and 5, clutching a woman's hands as they stood at the edge of the driveway that leads to the trailer park. It was a sudden and stark reminder that there are kids living in awful conditions through no fault of their own and -oh- how I wish I could do something to improve their world. I just want them to be safe with a reliable roof over their heads, y'know?

As my eyes focused on the kids standing eagerly at the side of the road, movement caught my attention. THE EASTER BUNNY TOOK HIS DAMN HEAD OFF. Right there. Maybe 100 yards from some kids.

I mentally froze. The whole thing couldn't possibly be happening. I started to try to use sheer willpower to convince the Easter Bunny to put his head back on. He apparently couldn't sense my powers, though, because he totally didn't. So I yelled out the car window, "Put your head on!" Funny thing, that, the fire trucks had their sirens on. The Bunny couldn't hear a damn thing I was saying, so I was just a crazy lady yelling weird things out her car window.

That moment stretched on and on. I glanced back and forth between the headless Bunny and the kids, just hoping they wouldn't see what they shouldn't see. Hoping. Wishing. Hoping. Wishing.

Fortunately, the Headless Bunny was near the back fo the fire truck. He was easy to see from behind, but that probably wasn't as true from the front. There was a ladder in the way, for sure, but it wouldn't be for long.

Hoping. Wishing. Hoping. Wishing.

And then he put his head back on. We were then no more than 30 yards from the kids, but PHEW.

As I drove by, I got a close look at the kids' faces and it was pretty clear they had seen nothing but magic and joy in the form of a giant fuzzy bunny riding atop a firetruck.

But, man, THAT was close. So, if you ever find yourself dress as a bunny riding atop a fire truck, KEEP YOUR DAMN HEAD ON, PLEASE. I can't handle the stress if you don't.

Comments

[Mary]

In the summer of 2001, I volunteered at the county's largest homeless shelter. It is blocks from the United States Capital. Yep, a stones throw. Oh how I want to believe in the Easter Bunny.