Do you ever suggest an activity to a friend with the knowledge that said activity will almost certainly do you in?
I did that this week. I had plans with my friend E and her two little dudes. In a fit of hubris I asked E if she would like to go to Bunnyland at a nearby orchard. Even as I asked I was about 75% sure that the day would end in semi-disaster.
Because Bunnyland is described as: “An Eggstravaganza of fun! Bring your basket and take a hayride in Bunnyland…” blah, blah, blah, I put us at 10% disaster even before we left due to the use of the term “Eggstravaganza.”
Bunnyland was about a half hour away from our house and my kids were pretty patient on the way there. I gave them a long speech about the rules and the kind of behavior I expect from Team Stimey. And I gave them a little lesson in herd mentality. Like the lemming I am, I followed the trail of minivans clearly headed to Bunnyland as we all passed the entrance to the orchard, came to the end of the road and all did minivan U-turns to go back to find the entrance. It was awesomely hilarious.
We quickly parked but then after we got to the line, we had to return to the car to put on sweaters. Sweaters which we all wore for about 20 minutes and then I carried for the next three hours and forty minutes. (I’m going to up our disaster quotient to 25% for that.) We found our friends and the guy at the front tried to charge me $19 too much to get in. That was not awesomely hilarious.
But then the fun started. Everything at Bunnyland except for a couple things (like pony rides and face painting) were free—you know, with the $26 admission for my family. So we were able to walk right up to pretty much anything we wanted to do and do it.
And do we did.
Here’s a nice photo of my kids and E’s kids before we ended up carrying everyone’s coats and Easter baskets:
The reason we were forced to carry the baskets around was because there was an Easter egg hunt. I had a moment of panic when I thought I was going to have to carry around 800 plastic eggs all day too, but the people behind Bunnyland are smart.
Much to my relief, the eggs were not only empty, but the kids were instructed to return them to the chicken before they left the egg-hunt area. Plus, there were plenty of eggs because Bunnyland employees were wandering around discreetly dropping eggs onto the ground.
After the egg hunt we did every single damn (free) thing Bunnyland had to offer. We played on the playground, we went through the bouncy tunnel and jumped on the moonbounce, we rode bikes around a gravel track, and climbed on another tractor.
Then we went down the giant slides.
Which were totally awesome. Except for when Quinn
badly injured himself falling on the side lip of the thing.
Then there was hay fighting, bunny-petting, and Jack trying to climb in the bin with the baby chicks.
Throughout all these activities, there was a lot of herding, and yelling for children, and counting of small boys. Plus there was about three minutes when I was sure I’d lost Quinn only to spot him in the bouncy tunnel.
When lunchtime hit, E stood in the longest line (time-wise, not length-wise; it was weird) known to humankind for lunch while I did everything short of standing on my head to keep five small boys occupied and in one spot. We played Simon Says and Animal Charades and Duck Duck Bunny and Stay Here and Don’t Move While I Go Chase Down Sam/Jack/Quinn Real Quick.
Honestly, if disaster were going to strike, it would have been then. I’m pretty proud of myself for keeping everyone together and mostly happy.
I rewarded myself by forcing my children to use the porta-potties.
Yeah. I’m that dumb.
But then there were hayrides and threats about “There is a very tiny baby immediately behind you, Quinn! If I see so much as one piece of hay on it, I’m throwing you over the edge of the wagon!” At the time I meant it. But after a couple of minute of sitting and watching our kids get so excited over the little bunny scenes set up along the route, I relaxed.
And then, while Sam and his two friends went on the hayride a second time, Quinn fell off some tall playground equipment and declared himself both done for the day and too small to try to use the fireman’s pole.
Bunnyland was particularly brutal to Quinn. See the evidence here:
Let me make some quick calculations and come up with a total here: four hours at Bunnyland with my buddy E and our five little dudes, hayrides, slides, rabbits, hay, chicks, rubber duck races, a playground, an Easter egg hunt, and two moonbounce activities. Subract total and utter exhaustion on my part and multiply by eking out every last bit of our money’s worth.
I’d have to say that’s about 0% disaster.
I’m totally going back next year.