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It’s almost Easter! Why not send an egg hunt to someone you love?
I did just that for both John and my kid sister, Becky, who’s away at college right now. Toady, I present the box I sent her. Later this week, you’ll get to see John’s!
Because we had such an advanced notice of John’s deployment, I had been stockpiling care package items after every holiday. (It’s so much easier to send care packages all the time when you’ve gotten 75-90% off deals!) I’ve had packages of eco-friendly, paper Easter basket grass and two dozen plastic eggs stashed in my care package corner for a year now.You can imagine how happy I am that Easter is now here– if for no other reason than to get that stuff out of my bedroom!
Becky’s eggs were stuffed with mini Reese’s eggs. I also threw in a gigantic Reese’s Egg. It is legitimately the largest peanut butter egg I’ve ever seen sold. (Don’t worry, this one was not hoarded from last year!)
And, of course, I threw in Father Angle Time.
Who is that? you ask. Father Angle Time is only the longest running joke in my family’s history! A few years ago, my sisters and I were shopping at a bent-and-dent discount store close to our folks’ house. You know the kind of store– industrial lighting, weird odds and ends in piles on tables, discontinued food… If you’re looking for Israeli children’s cereal or a ten-pound can of malted milk, look no further! And that’s where we discovered the greatest find of them all– Father Angle Time.
We were perusing the party supplies and we saw the best sign in the entire world. In very bold handwriting it read, “Father Angle Time– 99 cents!” (No, that’s not a typo for angel. It specifically said angle.) Below the sign were at least 30 Father Angle Times stacked up like creepy, whacked-out, unblinking firewood.
Instead, Father Angle Time looks like he just escaped from a demented psych ward. But he was 99 cents. We had to have him. (Admittedly, 99 cents was probably too high of a price to pay for Father Angle Time.)
Father Angle Time shows up in unexpected places– in the freezer, under pillows, hanging from a hook in the shower. When Becky left for college, we hid him in her suitcase. When she came down to visit us, I opened the fridge the day after she left to find him staring up at me between the juice and milk.
When I made up Becky’s box, I had him in my possession– he had to make the trip to her! It was too easy to hide him! And of course, Becky’d never expect to be there!
When she opened the package, she posted a photo on Facebook of Father Angle Time uncovered, staring up from the box like the scary nightmare he is.
Boom, Becky. You got Father-Angle-Timed!
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