ontario

Why the Easter Bunny is an essential service

My fellow inebriates,

Yesterday Ontario Premier Doug Ford declared the Easter Bunny an essential worker, assuring children there would still be chocolates on Easter morning. This followed similar assurances by New Zealand’s Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern about both the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy, and was quickly seconded by the premiers of Winnipeg and Quebec.

The Tooth Fairy is, of course, creepy.

But in the case of the Easter Bunny—especially when delivering booze-filled eggs (okay, that’s never happened in our house but I keep hoping for it)—this type of news is exactly what kids need to hear.

Okay, maybe not our kids. Now 12 and 14 years old respectively, their message to the Easter Bunny is: “Just put all the stuff on the kitchen table.” But for all the innocent, not-yet-cynical little kids who whose pandemic-related anxiety could only be surpassed by the threat that the Easter Bunny might not show up to hide eggs throughout their houses, it’s good to know our provincial governments are recognizing the necessity of magic and joy.

Over to you, Justin Trudeau. Can we expect a Canada-wide declaration this morning?

BOOMSMA YONGE GENEVER—Here’s to you, Miss P, poor kid

My Fellow Inebriates,

Miss P accidentally left her spelling words at school today. With a ten-word test looming tomorrow, we had no choice but to try to imagine what ten words might be on the list. Our only clue:

The words relate to the province of Ontario.

“How many do you remember, P?”

“Um, none.”

“You don’t remember any words on the list?”

“Zero.”

Wow. This from a kid who remembers the name of every damn pony in that kingdom of ponies she and V are collecting. OMG, what the hell are those things called? I can’t remember.

my filly

Fortunately, as we tried to guess P’s spelling words, she was able to confirm when we hit one. By bedtime we’d scored seven:

  • Ontario

  • Niagara Falls

  • Toronto

  • Great Lakes

  • Ottawa

  • curling

  • hockey

She didn’t want to do it, but Dad made her copy each one out multiple times. In the morning she’ll at least have seven under her belt, and she can try to cram the other three into her brain when she gets to school.

Except Dad had spelled “Niagara” like “Viagra.” Which meant P had copied “Niagra” ten times on her practice sheet, effectively cramming her head with a misspelling.

bOOMSMA

By that point she didn’t care. She’d already had too much drama. Forgetting your spelling list at school is apparently a big deal, and she’d cried actual tears. Four hours earlier she’d been stung by a bee. She was stressed about the odor her orthodontic Schwartz appliance container has taken on (it’s bad). And Mum had suggested she eat vegetables.

If I could have offered P a gin-and-tonic I would have. But I couldn’t, so I had one myself. Made with BOOMSMA, now down to the dregs following our recent Shoot-Out, it was pretty good. Not BROKER’S good or even GORDON’S good, but pretty good. BOOMSMA is a creeper. It’s light and slightly sweeter than typical London Dry gin, which tempts you to add more to your tonic, which I couldn’t because everyone had emptied the bottle. When it was gone, I felt a little like P. Worn out.