Not an Easter Column

It was my intention to give you all an Easter themed column this week. I had an idea fully fleshed out in my head, and even had the team over at Andy Enterprises run it by the focus group and test market it. Yet when it came time to actually construct the column, I was unable to finish it in time. For the first time the final mix up brought up some rather sad business, I had to let some of the team over at Andy Enterprises go. Then I felt about about that, hired them back, and they sued me for firing them in the first place. It was all settled out of court, over a game of Scrabble.

So why is this not an Easter column? What could have possibly transpired that resulted in legal action and Scrabble? I'll tell you. I was going to write a column about finding an engagement ring in an Easter Egg. Andy Enterprises even was on the horn to the Hallmark Channel to negotiate the movie rights for some light and airy TV movie that would air next year, with a title like “The Easter Bride”. While that was going on, I began work on the actual column itself.

My writing day that day was just like any other. I was locked away in my office, typing my little heart out. Then something usual happened. My cat came into the room and hopped right up on my desk. What's odd about this? Nothing really, he sometimes does this. It was odd because this was a Wednesday, and that's the day he spends listening to his “BeeGees for Cats” record I bought him last year. He indicated that he wanted me to follow him, and I did.

It seems he wanted to tell me that someone was at the door. It was my Aunt, arms full with her three year old granddaughter. She too was in the middle of a hectic day, and needed someone to watch little Vanessa. Guess who got to watch little Vanessa? Yep. Me. Now overall, I'm pretty good with kids. If all else fails, I'll just put on “Pee-Wee's Playhouse” and make sure the child doesn't injure themselves.

But it's not that easy when you have to look after little Vanessa, because little Vanessa seems to think that my legs are punching bags. She waved to my aunt with a sweet smile as she left, but the moment the door was closed, it was punch city all on my legs. Granted, this is a three year old we're talking about, so it's more of a minor annoyance than it is inflicting any physical harm. She moves with me though, punching right along. I make my way to the kitchen to get her a juice box, and she punches me all the time.

The punching ends when I give her a juice box, then she just sits on my couch, watches PBS Sprout, and stares at my cat. So there went my writing day. Could I have gotten it written over the weekend? Maybe, but it was a busy weekend. I had a birthday party to attend, and I had a sold out crowd coming to listen to my lecture “Cultivating a Rubber Duck Collection for Fun and Profit”.

And so this is not an Easter column. No stories of aunts ruining ham, or any of that madness. However I hope that you do have a good easter, indulge in some ham, or perhaps those tasty chocolate eggs that I can't seem to stop eating.