Love the giver more than the gift. –Brigham Young
Happy Birthday!!! -The last words I heard before everyone went crazy.
For a long time, I put off starting a blog because I was paranoid. I feared that one day my little personal blog might get me fired from a job or some stalker would like me a bit too much and kill me in my sleep. Even today, I’m weary of writing about topics I deem “too personal” or publishing posts that might come back to haunt me.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t careful enough. I didn’t adequately analyze all the risks, nor foresee all the possible consequences of starting a blog. Fellow bloggers (and people on the fence about starting a blog), take note.
First, some context. Last month, I wrote a blog post called 3 Reasons Why I’m Not an Animal Person. It was supposed to be a lighthearted retelling of three humorous/unfortunate encounters I’ve had with animals, most significantly the death of my pet rabbit Trixie when I was a young lass. That rapidly spiraled into a major (albeit somewhat dramatic) investigation into what actually happened to my pet rabbit (see Follow-Up: What REALLY Happened to Trixie the Bunny).
I thought the case was closed… but apparently, it was not…(DUN dun DUuUuUuN)
Last Thursday was my birthday. For the last few weeks, my sister-in-law and her kids had been acting very suspicious in regards to my birthday gift. It got to the point where I even said I didn’t want to open whatever they got me because they were being too weird about it. They reassured me that the gift wasn’t THAT crazy, so I naively trusted them.
After we finished eating cake, they decided it was finally time. First, they handed me a birthday card, filled with sweet notes to their “Tia Evie” as I’m known around some parts. Then, my brother jokingly blurts out, “So we got you a real bunny because you said you’re sad about Trixie dying.”
I laugh, thinking he’s joking. He also thinks he’s joking, but I realize that my sister-in-law and her daughters aren’t contradicting him. No one is jumping in to say it’s not true. Instead, their faces go blank and my nephew yells, “See Dad! That’s why we never tell you anything. You blurt out secrets!”
I look down at the birthday card again.
I notice one final note on the back.
My mind is already going into shock mode, so I barely make out the words:
Your present is to make up for all the past trauma caused by your brothers with Trixie! Hope you like Bugs!! ❤️❤️❤️
In my head, I’m still denying it: There’s no way they actually–That’s when the kids bring in a large cage on wheels, covered by a blanket. Someone yells, “Happy Birthday!” and with a magician’s flair, they pull off the blanket.
Behold, a rabbit.
While everyone yelled at each other, I honestly didn’t know what to say. Neither did the rabbit, who sat shivering in his cage as confused as I was.
After the initial shock wore off, I realized I really should’ve written a post on 3 Reasons I’m not a Money Person or 5 Reasons I’m Not Ready for a New Car.
In case you’re curious, the kids named the bunny “Bugs.” Other name suggestions included: Soccer Ball, Messi, Cow, Moo, and Milo. I didn’t get a vote because I gave up my full custody rights as a pet owner. Given my current living situation, there was no way I could actually keep the rabbit. A fact everyone knew, including the kids, which makes this perhaps one of the cleverest pet schemes in history. Their dad has a strict no-pet rule, so (I think) they figured, “Yes, let’s get our aunt a pet rabbit as a joke because of her blog, and then KEEP the rabbit when she says she can’t accept it.” A smart way to circumvent the anti-rabbit rule if you ask me. The real shocker was how they managed to hide a rabbit from their dad for three weeks…
I think it’s safe to say that I won’t be forgetting this birthday for a long time. And neither will my brother.