A Bird’s-Eye View of Easter
Hey, fucknuggets! Did you have a great Easter? The daddies and little humans sure did despite my shenanigans. What? You didn’t think I would become a paragon of perfection once the tiny people appeared, did you? I try to tone it down, except for when I know the daddies are most stressed. What’s more stressful than Little Daddy trying to make sure every blade of fake grass is perfectly arranged in the little monster’s Easter baskets or preparing food for a houseful of people. Here’s a sample of the conversations Sassy and I were subjected to as we sat in our fancy glass aviary.
“I don’t want to overload the baskets with candy, Gabe. They’re only a year old, and I don’t want you to pollute them with sugar. We can put little toys and stuffed animals that are age appropriate.”
“I agree,” Big Daddy said, nodding his head.
Sassy looked over at me and shook her head. She wasn’t buying that bullshit either. We’ve been watching him in action for a few years and knew he was up to no good.
Little Daddy wasn’t a dumb ass either. “I know when you’re lying to me, Gabriel.”
“Josh, I would never—”
“Save it,” Little Daddy said abruptly. “I found the stash of Reese’s Peanut Butter Eggs and Peeps in your closet when I was looking for our favorite burgundy silk tie.”
Big Daddy’s eyes glazed over at some fond memory that I was grateful not to witness firsthand. It was bad enough hearing it years ago in that small living space above the salon. I was prone to squawking, “Will you come already? I’m trying to sleep! Damn! Throw a blanket over my cage!”
“Sunshine, can’t they have just one little Peep and one peanut butter egg each?” Big Daddy gave him the same puppy dog look that Buddy used when he wanted scraps. It worked for both man and beast every time. Little Daddy was a sucker for Big Daddy and his dog.
“Only because it makes the baskets look prettier,” he agreed.
The good thing about the new house was that it was so much bigger than the old place. That meant we didn’t have to see or hear all the sexy times, but that didn’t stop me, or Sassy even, from harassing the daddies on occasion. We knew what their running up the steps meant just as we knew Little Daddy wasn’t really trying to escape Big Daddy. He wouldn’t have doubled back to make sure Big Daddy was okay after he tripped over a kid toy in the middle of the room if he wanted to get away. We weren’t living on the set of some lame-ass horror movie where the people always ran up the stairs at the first sign of trouble instead of out the front door.
The next morning, Little Daddy was up before the sun fussing with those baskets at the dining room table. Again. He brought down Big Daddy’s candy with him and carefully placed one unnaturally purple, puffy bird-like shaped thing in each basket followed by something rectangular in a yellow wrapper.
“There,” he said when he finished. Then he stepped back and checked to see that everything looked good. He stepped back up to the dining room table and fluffed the grass some more. “Okay, maybe one more of each goodie for balance.” He was a sucker for the little humans too.
Once he completed that task, he made himself a cup of coffee from that huge contraption he called a Ninja and returned to the dining room where he devoured the rest of the purple puffy things and rectangles in the yellow wrappers. Little Daddy looked up and caught me watching him.
“Don’t judge me,” he said then stomped back to the kitchen where he tinkered around for a good thirty minutes before Big Daddy brought the bleary-eyed little humans down to see what the “Easter Bunny” brought them.
“There are my favorite peeps,” Little Daddy said, scooping up them up for kisses and hugs when they entered the kitchen. “Did you see what the Easter Bunny brought you?”
Apparently, the little people didn’t like the fake Easter Bunny at the mall any more than they liked faked Santa, but the daddies had a new family photo of the four them sitting on the bunny’s lap to show off to their friends and family. Anyway, the babies started crying and looking around the room in fear when they heard the words “Easter Bunny.”
“He’s gone now,” Little Daddy said, cuddling the babies against his chest. “We’re never taking them to see a mall anything ever again, Gabe. They’re traumatized.”
“Fine by me,” Big Daddy said, taking Destiny from Little Daddy. “The big bunny is gone, but he left behind some pretties for you. Do you want to see?”
Destiny sniffed a few times and nodded. Dylan was more than happy to wait and let her go first, so Little Daddy followed behind at a slower pace. Here’s the thing about my human family. The balance is amazing. The two daddies are as different as night and day, and so are the little monsters’ personalities. They bring out the best in each other. Take Big Daddy, for instance. He’s more cautious by nature where Destiny goes full blast into trouble, so she pushes him outside his comfort zone. And Little Daddy is like his daughter, but Dylan’s wariness makes him take a step back and think things through before reacting.
“Papa!” Destiny said when she saw the baskets.
“Go go!” Dylan urged when he heard the excitement in his sister’s voice.
The twins clapped chubby hands as their fathers set them on the dining room table beside their baskets.
“I thought the Eas—” Big Daddy stopped talking when Little Daddy’s eyes bulged out of his head. “I thought the furry friend was only putting two treats in each basket. I spy four.”
“Well, it is the holiday.”
“I wonder what he did with the leftovers?” Big Daddy asked. Little Daddy answered by rubbing his stomach. “I see how it goes.”
Ugh! I hate that saying. Like I want a nasty worm. I just couldn’t behave. “Gets to top.”
“Savage,” the daddies warned. I held up a wing, which was the same as flipping them off.
“I need to get Easter brunch started. Don’t take the babies outside to color with their sidewalk chalk without me,” Little Daddy warned.
“I wouldn’t deprive you of art time with the kids.”
Little Daddy narrowed his eyes like he was scrutinizing Big Daddy’s features to see if he was telling the truth. “See that you don’t.” Just then a big clap of thunder rattled through the house. Little Daddy snickered because he could tell that Mother Nature thwarted Big Daddy’s plans.
“Do you know her?” Big Daddy asked. “This happens every single time.”
“I’ll never tell all my secrets,” Little Daddy replied before leaning in for a kiss. “The three of you behave.”
Fifteen minutes later, Little Daddy was up to his armpits in pastry dough while Big Daddy and the babies fell asleep on the couch.
“What a glorious brunch,” Al said, reclining back in his seat. “You’ve outdone yourself, Son.”
“Thanks, Dad,” Josh said to his father-in-law. “I’ll be sure to send home a care package.”
“He’s a keeper, Gabe.”
“I know, Dad.” A person, or bird, couldn’t miss the soft smile that spread across Big Daddy’s face when he looked at Little Daddy. “Let me help in the kitchen while the moms distract the babies so the dads can hide the thingies in the house since it’s still raining.”
The daddies disappeared into the kitchen, the grandmothers took the babies upstairs to play in their room, and the grandpas retrieved a carton from the refrigerator. I was curious to see what thingies they were going to hide. Al and Bill each picked out a brightly colored egg. Whoa! What kind of bird laid those fancy fuckers?
“Son,” Bill said. “How’d you get marbled colors on these eggs?”
“Oh, I saw this new technique on Pinterest. I squirted food coloring in shaving cream, swirled it around, then rolled the eggs in it. I let the eggs dry and rolled them in a different color. Pretty cool, huh?”
“I’d say,” Al replied.
The grandpas started hiding the eggs as best they could for little people, and I saw my chance to have a little fun when they brought Destiny and Dylan downstairs with baskets to collect the eggs. I looked at Sassy and could tell she was on board.
“Careful, they might break!” Sassy squawked when Destiny found her first one.
“Over there in the plant,” I squawked when Dylan looked pissed that his sister found the first egg.
“Savage,” all the adults said.
“Behave, Dirty Bird,” Little Daddy admonished while Big Daddy tried not to laugh. He was my spirit human.
“Bite me,” I told them all. I plotted my revenge when the twins overlooked one of the eggs, and the humans didn’t do a final count to make sure all the eggs were found. That little bastard was going to stink before long, and they’d be desperate to find the source. I planned to yell, “The smeller is the feller,” every chance I got.
And that, my folks, was a bird’s-eye view of Easter with the Roman-Wyatts.