We took Ben to the mall to see the Easter Bunny this week. At Christmas, he wailed the second Santa Claus looked at him. This time, we expected the same, but he didn't cry...immediately. He looked around and it didn't seem like he realized that the Easter Bunny was a living, breathing thing...until he moved and tried to give Ben a high five. It was all over with then. Thank goodness, Ben's super-dad was there to save him from the evil paws of the Easter Bunny!
Afterwards, we are paying for our pictures and the cashier is this early 20-year-old carni-looking chick (carni as in runs the rides at the fair, never bathes, not to be confused with Carni Wilson, ex-Wilson Phillips, although I'm not sure which is worse). She starts to hand Ben a dum-dum and I tell her, "no, thanks". She asks how old he is and I tell her that he is 11 months. She says with a *toothless* grin, "Oh. I have an 11-month-old too and I give him suckers all the time!"
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