Here Comes Peter Cotton Tail...

Sunshine. Warm weather. Flowers blooming. Spring is in the air. I can already hear the songs beginning to play in some remote corner of my mind…Here comes Peter Cottontail, hopping down the bunny trail, hippity hoppity look at Peter go…Now, what could be more exciting than taking your kids on a ninety minute train ride with none other than Peter Rabbit…possibly a lot of things…but, for today, we will have to settle with the train ride.

With the aid of my GPS (I don’t know what I did before this nifty little invention)…we found the Wilmington Railroad line. For some reason, my sister and I decided to reserve our tickets online, but we made the mistake of not doing it at the same time. Remember, it’s Palm Sunday and every kid in the world wants to ride the train with the Easter Bunny. After waiting for what seems like an eternity…when you have three kids with you, one minute seems like forever…we are told that are seats are not on the same train cars. HOLD ON….as all hell breaks loose among our three kids…not sit together…is this lady crazy???…I realize that she is about ninety and has no idea how devastating this is to three little girls all under the age of seven. She tells us that we can get in the “other” line and try to exchange them. With a quick glance at the “other” line…which has about fifty people in it…we suck it up and get on our separate cars. At this point, my daughter is sobbing so loudly that people are beginning to stare at us...not like some of their kids are behaving any better...her cousins sit in the train car in front of us…I realize that there is no way I am going to torture myself like this for the next few hours…with quick thinking and seconds before the train departs the track, my daughter and I make our way to the train car where my sister is sitting. No big deal…plenty of room…and the one hundred year old man punching tickets is none the wiser. Instantly, the sobbing stops and a huge smile comes over my daughter's face...crisis diverted...they should make me head of the FBI.

Okay….Easter Bunny Ride here we come…the customary snack cart is rolled down the isle….for a small fee you can dine on a selection of junk food and carbonated beverages…a young boy follows behind the cart handing out chocolate Easter Bunny lollipops…my sister and I hold out our hands for one….the snide little boy replies…”Sorry, these are only for the kids”….Now, wait one minute….I paid more for my ticket on the train than my daughters’…I am not sure why as we both occupy the same amount of seat….it’s not like they cut the kid’s seat in half…who makes these crazy policies? …

Now, my sister did put the kid on the spot by asking him to clip her ticket like Tom Hanks did in Polar Express...I am not sure he found that too amusing...I, however, was more caught up in thinking exactly what word he might have have punched on it...probably some vulgarity that would have put him in bad graces with the bunny...With more than two hundred bunny lollipops in the basket...he slowly inched down the aisle without giving us another look…probably thinking...screw those parents and their stupid jokes...I think he might have been keeping all those stolen bunnies for himself…a secret stash just in case the Easter Bunny happens not to stop at his house...something tells me this could be a real possibility.

After ninety minutes of Easter Bunny heaven for our kids and a hundred pictures to ensure memories of every joyous minute, we depart the Wilmington Railroad. The next big question…where do we have lunch?