Yes, yes, I know that Easter has already passed, but at the Barry household, we're still remembering zombie Jesus and our Easter baskets are still out, so technically, this counts.
Easter is always an odd holiday because we eat so early in our house. That means we get up earlier than normal to help with the chores and whatever, and it's a lot of waiting for everyone to get there. So ultimately, the day drags on forever and by 4, you feel like you've already done a full day's work.
Anyway, it's always the same set up with us. Put the dogs away, put out the snacks, talk to each other for a few minutes, and then just kind of stare until dinner. And even when that comes around, it's more silence for the most part. Then, my sister will get up and start cleaning the dishes and all the everyone will help separate everything into individual doggie bags for the guests. Everyone really lends a hand.
Well, I hate touching other people's food. I think it's really gross and I can't dwell on it for too long, otherwise I may gag. I also don't like looking at messy plates. It's just...slop. Barf.
So, with this in mind, a few years ago, we were all done eating and my brother and I went into our room and were playing video games. We were done before everyone else and we could hear what was going on. Then we heard the clinking of plates and the rounding up of silver wear. They started to clean.
"Get the boys to help" I heard my mother say. My little brother had heard it too, and he looked right at me. Without speaing, he threw his controller onto the bed, jumped off his bed, and slid under his bed. I immediately followed, tucking myself far enough in so that the bed spread and darkness would hide me. I could see Tim across the room, pinning himself against the far wall. This was great! They would never find us in here, and by the time they did, all the dishes would be done and the kitchen would be spotless. Just in time for dessert!
So I could see the footsteps enter my room, spin around and exit. It worked. We waited a few more minutes, and we could hear them talking in the kitchen about us. "Where are the boys?"
"I thought they were in there room!"
"Call their cellphones!"
Luckily, T-Mobile sucks and I get no recpetion in my house. Especially UNDER MY BED. So I see a few more pairs of feet enter, pace around, and exit.
"Check outside for the boys!" Uh-oh. They're getting worried. Minutes passed, and rather than come out, revealing my great hiding spot, I took a nap. I guess Timmy did too because he was awfully quiet. We were like vampires in coffins, hiding right under their noses.
After I woke up, I consulted my phone to see that some time had passed, and I missed 14 phone calls and 5 text messages. Wow, they must really be worried, I figured.
"Tim?" I said in a whisper. Across the floor, under the bed but covered in darkness, my brother replied "yeah?"
"You think dessert's ready?"
Tim poked his head out, like a turtle. We emerged, the light hurting our eyes. So we walked out together, and everyone turned to look at us.
"Where were you?! We called you!"
"We...hid under our beds". I could feel them staring at us, judging. All I could hear them thinking was "But...he's 21. Why - why would he hide under his bed?" But they laughed it off and said nothing else. So I walked over and grabbed myself a brownie, not caring what they thought of me.
As the night went on, I could only think about the following Easter, and what if everyone caught on to my brother's great idea. All i could picture was Aunt Rose and Uncle George under my parents bed. My mother would walk in, bend down and offer them a slice of pie to which they would say "No thank you, dear, we're full. But we'd love a cup of coffee".