Well, Peter Cottontail, I Know It's 2020 and Everything is Upside Down, But NO, Your Season Isn't Until the Spring. Sorry

I was called to pick up my father's vehicle, and trying to figure out a way to return the vehicle without a curiosity of keys was top priority on the agenda. Mom slept most of the day, and wasn't awake for surveillance, and I was unsure how the Dylan pick-up and return of the RAV 4 was going to go down. Even so, I went downstairs awaiting the pickup hoping to arouse little to no suspicion. 

That's when I noticed Mr. Cottontail was under the front bush preparing to deliver Easter Eggs. I though, "Seriously, Peter. The last of our turkey was just finished, and most of us are wondering how the @#$@ we are supposed to do the Christmas holidays and here you are at our front doorstep. I think think you've come too soon." 

He wasn't amused and darted into a neighbor's yard, not before extinguishing a cigarette in the front porch, totally Tiffany's, plastic Folger's coffee container. As I wafted his exhaled smoke, I yelled to him, "We still love you, but now is not the time for Jellybeans! Let us survive the stable's childbirth miracle before we celebrate the resurrection from death and stone. We can only take so much right now."

Then I got the car, went to Price Chopper (Prithe Thopper) and got mom the bathroom soap she needed and dad the proper apple fritters, after learning that Wegman's fritters don't cut it. I returned home, mom was still sleeping, and dad was digesting his bowl of mushrooms (aka as tomato soup). I should note, however, that while picking up the RAV 4, dad locked me out of the house for some reason. It's all good. The car had a garage door opener that he couldn't here. I entered the house, put groceries away, and there was little to no drama...

...that is, until I decided to take a solicitor's phone call for a little entertainment and my dad grew perplexed as to who I could be talking to...

She was a nice girl...I'm guessing from Puerto Rico...who was paid to ask me about my newspaper consumption habits. Sure the interview was almost 90 minutes but she said she'd send me a $10 bill and I really was engaged with her questions: Do you read newspapers? Do you read the Danbury Daily? Do you read the Connecticut Post? Do you read the Stamford Advocate? Do you read the New York Times? How often are you online? Do you read newspapers online? Do you read the Danbury Daily online? Do you read the Connecticut Post online? Do you read the Stamford Advocate online?

I really enjoyed the engaged conversation and reciprocity of the phone solicitor. She was really engaging to talk to and seemed really interested in what I enjoyed reading.

That is, until the Easter Bunny suddenly jumped on the call and told her I tried to kill him by making him run into traffic. Then the red-headed doll that freaks the hell out of Chitunga ran into my room and bit me on the ankle. I yelled ouch and she said, "Where did you put his keys? Where are his keys?"

That was my Friday.