Art: The act of making it and other problems of life.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
A Bunny Tale
I can't remember what year it was. A few years ago, anyway. I'd stepped out front to wave goodbye to my son, Michael, as he left for school. It was a beautiful, bright blue morning, but something was wrong. Giant objects were hovering over the skyline created by my neighbors' houses. There was a Wendy's cup - super-sized - and something from Taco Bell. My memory is a little fuzzy on exactly what it was. Wal-Mart might have been floating up there, I don't know. I wasn't really paying attention to anything except the giant, pink bunny sporting a giant bass drum. It was him! The Energizer Bunny!
Michael ran and grabbed the camera as I stood transfixed in the yard. The bunny floated directly over our driveway. I began to jump - just a little.
"Mom. Mom! Calm down," my son put his hand lightly on my shoulder. I couldn't speak. I jumped a little higher. The bunny was just feet - ok, maybe yards - above my house! Above MY house. Like right above it!
"Hey!" I waved. "Hey!" jumping still higher.
"Mom?" Michael was starting to sound worried. He was in his teens and I was in my pajamas. "Mom. Stop! Please! Go inside! Please?" He tried to steer me towards the door.
"Bunnay!" I yelled. "Bunnnnnnaaaaaayyyy!" I tried to outmaneuver my son when I realized the bunny would soon be over my backyard. I bolted through the front door of the house and straight out the back. "Hey, Bunnnnaaaaay! Come down here, Bunnay! Please!!!!" A man peaked over the edge of the little basket dangling inconsequentially below the bunny's feet. I cupped my hands around my mouth, jumped as high as I could and yelled one more time, "Bunnnnaaaaaay! Please!"
I began to run out of breath, "Bunnay, please?" Bunny? Oh, bunny..." And just like that, he was over somebody else's house and soon he was gone. A pack of French fries floated by and I started to cry. Not a sad, boo-hoo cry. A weird, silly cry that can only come from seeing the Energizer Bunny hovering, however briefly, over your backyard and then just going away.
I wiped my tears on my pajama sleeve. "You're weird, " Michael said.