Sew What?! Here Comes Peter Cottontail

The benefits of being an uncle are great, extending far beyond the pat witticism, "all of the fun and none of the diaper changing."  In reality, I have just as many rich opportunities to damage my nephew's young psyche as my sister and brother-in-law - without any of the pesky and complicated blame usually reserved for parents.

Growing up in a funny house (comically and otherwise), the sentence for misbehavior was usually lenient if it got a laugh; that is probably because a prankster precedent was long established by Mom and Dad.  My parents were famous for their food gags; Dad would record the faces of his infant children after allowing them to suck on a lemon wedge.  Mom would offer me a heaping spoonful of "whipped cream" just waiting for my emerging taste buds to discover the difference between whipped cream and horseradish.  But the hijinks were not limited to juvenile ulcers; every time I was late for junior high school, Dad would write a note detailing the crippling nature of my "chronic diarrhea" or the importance of my diplomacy efforts in Iran.  Mom was a consummate scarer; after so many times of her hiding behind a door or jumping from around the corner shouting "Boo," I have developed the stealth (deceptive for my size and shape) of a cat burglar, refusing to round a corner without clearing the area like a SWAT operative.

This practical-joke morality was always imbued with a strong pay-it-forward ethos; just because I am bereft of progeny doesn't mean that I shouldn't educate the next generation on the finer points of bad tastes, fear, and embarrassment.  While out thrifting, I found the perfect pay-it-forward moment in Simplicity 9050, a pattern for a children's costume, dated 1970.  I say, "Welcome home" to almost any pattern that says, "Simple-to-Sew."  In turn, my nephew can say "goodbye" to a carefree childhood devoid of humiliating costumery and "hello" to years of group counseling (given this trauma, the likelihood that he'll ever be able to afford private therapy sessions is improbable at best).

Simplicity 9050

I got the pattern for a quarter; it always makes me happy when I

pay less than the price Mrs. Smith paid more than forty years ago!

Sure, the kitties are pretty and the poodle divine
 but the real belly laughs are with that pink bunny rabbit!

I honestly thought that pink bunny suits were the invention of Jean Shepherd and have only ever associated them with Ralphie's yuletide mortification in A Christmas Story.

Peter Billingsley as Ralphie Parker
in A Christmas Story (1983)

If Mom thought the horseradish caper of '87 was a corker, then a bunny suit à la Mr. Tiny was sure to be one for the record books. 

Have you ever?!?!!!
I couldn't even finish zipping the zipper; I just about melted the minute I saw him in
this get-up!  I guess the joke was on me; he seemed to love being the Easter Bunny.

The "paws" are sewn like an envelope so the wearer can unwrap Easter candy (in true family tradition, I considered sewing them shut but I'm not a monster).  Staying faithful to A Christmas Story, I used a raspberry-colored charmeuse for the contrast material and made bunny faces on the feet.  I even finished the soles with the kind of non-skid material found on factory-made footie pajamas. 

Left with a scant yard of pink material and the inspiration of Fred Astaire in Easter Parade, I realized that our little hunny bunny needed a bunny of his own.

"Drum Crazy" - Fred Astaire in Easter Parade (1948)

My sincere expectation was that an early Easter celebration combined with his unqualified hatred
of the bunny suit would require an Easter basket bribe - I guess I shouldn't have worried.

The stuffed, pink bunny (bestowed with the name "Pinkaroni" by the waitress at our favorite pizza joint) is fashioned in the exact same materials as the suit and became a constant companion for a few days.  I used vintage, velvet ribbon to make an aqua bow tie and hastily embroidered a face finished by two shoe-button eyes. 

A bunny costume would not be complete without a fuzzy cottontail.
The costume pattern called for a homemade, yarn, pom-pom tail but I knew that I would be able
to find something ready-made that would outclass my meager pom-pom-making skills.
Do you see those fluffy, pink, cotton tails?  They started life as a pair of earmuffs from the 99¢ Only Store!
I considered sizing down the tail on the stuffed bunny rabbit but I thought the giant tail was much funnier. 

The cutest thing I have ever seen!!!
He wasn't even the slightest bit distressed looking like a "pink nightmare."

Maybe this is a time-release terror formula; maybe it won't kick in until he is old enough to understand the humiliation.  Maybe the payoff will be when he gets his first girlfriend and we break out the infamous bunny pictures.

The great part is that the joke is really on my sister; after many years have passed and my nephew looks back at pictures of himself in a pink bunny suit, even he won't wonder how Uncle Tiny fit into the equation, he'll really only wonder why his parents would allow this to happen.

"Here Comes Peter Cottontail" - Gene Autry (1950)

Until then, we wish you a Hop-Hop-Hoppy Easter!!!


Cheers!

Mr. Tiny