Mind Like a Sieve

So we're at the store yesterday shopping for items to go in the Easter basket of a young boy living in a shelter whom we had chosen through church to give to. And the kids were doing really well picking Easter treats and other toys for him, including our new, all-time favorite flying disk (which Bud spent yesterday afternoon almost landing on the roof! Not the boy's, Bud and Sis got one too). But they did keep pointing things out that they would like and wanted to take home and I kept saying, "No, I'm not buying you a _____ (insert chocolate bunny, chocolate gold posts toy, bunny stickers, whatever). The Easter Bunny does your shopping." (which, by the way, struck me as ridiculous as soon as I said it--do we imagine that the Bunny goes to the store?). Then it hit me. I'm the Easter Bunny. And Easter is just about a week away. I'm going to need to do some shopping. (Hi kids! If you're reading this in 5 years time, I hope you already know this already. :|) For their baskets. For Easter dinner. For the whole shebang. Pronto.

So just guess where I was this morning as soon as I dropped them off at school?!