There�s a little boy who had last week off due to Spring Break. And has the following week off�

And all along the previous seven days his father (Say! Moi!) intended to run into a pal who had 15 free minutes, or a neighbor who had a few to spare or something that would give YerSauce the time needed to do some easter bunny-esque collection of goodies for today.

No such luck.

Relatives? All Right Coasters. Vermont, Florida, and inbetween. Pals? Working, single-and-chasing-tail (both male and female variety) off with family for Passover, Easter, and on.

This diarist left over 20 voice mails yesterday making begging noises to acquaintances. �Um, if you aren�t too busy�SauceNameHere could use less than a half hour of DaKiddo watching so he can go to a store without the child.� All of them were gone and too busy�although there were a bunch of horrified return calls today.

By boy-bedtime last night ThisIntrepidParent was beginning to panic about the sitch. Now what?

The neighbors he�d been keeping eyes open for who had left their house at 11 am had not yet returned. Calls to sitters had yielded nada. Calls to local gourmet-variety stores asking about kid watching did no good. Wits end had approached, arrived, and spat upon some Sauce-like-big-feets.

So, just before tucking in a lad, this boy ran out and placed notes strategically on five of the closest houses. [Two of them targeting neighbors he doesn�t even know.] �Hi. This is your Only-Parent-Neighbor Across The Street. If you get home tonight, may I borrow your attendance upon a five-year-old-and-blissfully-sleeping-kid for 12 minutes so his dad doesn�t mess up Easter beyond belief for a child he loves?"

At ten o-clock not one of the normally homebody next-door households had returned. DaDiarist was vulturing on the front porch and watching cars pull up and past. He envisioned leaving a note from the bunny postponing the Expected Goodies to Monday due to labor problems at Easter Inc. There were suggestions from RokLobster regarding the possible note saying that the HUGE BOX was delayed in magical bunny transit and would be there on Monday.

The whole thing was both silly AND crazy making.

10:20 rolled �round�and the neighbors most expected to be back soon after their 11 am departure got home. They found their note, dashed over (absolutely aghast!) and let me know that they would have been back sooner had a baseball game not gone long. It was still going and they were getting their three-plus-year-old and their one-year-old home for the night even with the ballgame unfinished and they�d send one of themselves over in fifteen and gladly take a sit and let me run to the store.

So a member of the Same Initial Society (for long-time readers these are the folks who name each member of the family with the same first/middle--and last, duh!--initials�) came running in about twenty minutes later begging for channel 642 on DirecTV (the game) and with adult beverage in hand.

This ONLY PARENT ran to the store. Collected necessary goods, and returned in under fifteen�deeply grateful with a spiral sliced ham gift for the neighbor�

By midnight egg coloring was underway. Four colors of Chicken Ova were done�

A basket was built with some small toys and some paper grass, and some candy-like goods.

And DaDumbAssDiarist was on his hammock laughing and feeling deep and profound relief.

The balm of this and another recent general easing of DaBrain combined with glee and gratitude (that needs must be described later or not at all�Grin.) combined? The bomb.

Laughter was back. [Now it may have been a six foot four goofball with a cinderblock sized skull and too many stainless steel bits in his left ear giggling ALONE in his own backyard, but laughter it was� And it was GOOD.]

After some relaxation and thoughtfulness, DatSauceGuy left a careful trail of eggs. The caution was two part and all involved sleeping a bit beyond dawn� One, it wouldn�t do to climb into his big-ol� CalKing bed and find that his son stumbled upon a Basket O� Bliss while going Paw-DEE ten minutes after YerDiarist climbed into his own rack. Two, it also wouldn't do (AT ALL) for the kid to notice DaGoods when he awoke at dawn and his pop tried to coax another hour or so of sleep out of him in Dad�s Bed. So, a careful trail of hand-colored eggs was laid down from the side of DaKiddo�s doorway (not facing his father�s room) out in a stagger-step configuration all the way out into the living room, around a corner. Each egg barely visible from where the last had been set--and all of them leading to a wacky-wicker-wonderland for a two-months-from-age-six-kid.

On second wakeup (8:15 BABY!) the two of us walked down the hall together, and he spotted the first egg. �DAD! The EASTER BUNNY LEFT ME AN EGG! YAAAAAAAY! And another! And whoa! More eggs. And MORE OVER HERE! Dad! Look! A basket! � Delight and Delectation ensued. Easter happened and was not phucked by DaIdiotBoy for his son.

--SauceOfSeriousReliefAllRound