UPDATE for 2017: It’s March, which means the Easter season is just around the corner. I’m republishing this one to maybe (?) hopefully (?) head some of this nonsense off before it starts. See “St. Patrick’s Day Rant” below.
Originally published March 27, 2016. Before President BEC was elected. Lawdy, y’all…this guy! And I’m a Republican.
BEC: a b!tch eating crackers. Someone who bothers you so much that just about everything they do annoys you. Even something as simple as eating a cracker can set you off.
I’ve been particularly stabby lately.
My friend just told me she needs a list of my BECs. I’ll admit: I seem to add a new one every day.
Currently topping the list is Donald Trump (for reasons too numerous to list here) followed closely by the peeps at my church who decided to do the Easter egg hunt in the dirt lot next door. Not in the cool, green grass or clean playground- oh no! That would be a terrible idea.
Let’s do it in the vacant snake-hole ridden dirt lot! Kids LOVE snakes and holiday themed emergency room visits, right?
So yeah. My BEC list got a plus one today. Actually, a plus two.
BEC resonates with me lately. It’s a quaint little phrase that my Baby Center friends back in the day schooled me on. You pronounce it like a shortened version of the name Becky.
Bec with a hard C.
From Urban Dictionary (and cleaned up a little- family blog here!)
Kim: Look at Erica over there reading that book, so annoying.
Jules: Dude, she’s just reading, you just think it’s annoying because she’s your BEC.
Kim: yea, but look at her flipping the pages and stuff.
The Donald Trump thing is totally making sense for you now, isn’t it?
Why then would your Easter Bunny be on my BEC list?
Because yours, according to social media and my kids, is way better than mine.
Or maybe he knows how I feel about him, so he hippity–hoppity-boppity-ed past my crib with all his cool shiz.
Yall’s bunnies brought some sweet swag. Epic swag.
A pregnancy. (Okay, so this was really cute and a clever way to announce- YAY!- so no hate on this one).
But you get my drift, right?
It’s like Christmas: the Sequel.
I’m not hating, I promise. This is not born of jealousy. We had a lovely and mellow Easter, and I wouldn’t have changed a thing.
Well. Minus the egg hunt mentioned above… grumble grumble.
My kids even stood willingly for a picture together, and I only had to take 15 pics versus the usual 50.
All looking in the same direction and smiling? I WIN EASTER!
My bunny brought each kid a basket, some plastic eggs filled with candy, and a little gift card. Easy peasy, no muss no fuss. Just the way I like it.
While I’m totally cool with what was delivered to mi casa, I can’t help but wonder where the madness will end.
I’m not alone here, am I? You’ve seen it too, right?
I heard there were Leprechauns delivering baskets this year on St. Patrick’s Day. For the love of the Blarney Stone, what is that all about?
Do not make me add you to the BEC list, little green man.
Stick to turning the milk & various rivers green and we will get along just fine.
Parents, let’s just be chill from here on out.
There’s no need to make the 4th of July literal Christmas in July, right? RIGHT?
I’m not judging or trying to say anyone is doing anything wrong here, but I am saying that it’s making me uncomfortable with the expectations possibly being set. Along the lines of “everyone’s a winner!” soccer seasons, I’m getting tired of “every Hallmark holiday equals a $200 celebration!”.
I’m good with mellow; I’m good with having a little something for the kids, but I’m also really good with celebrating the Easter holiday as it should be: prayer, family, and Easter egg hunts in the friggin’ GRASS PEOPLE.