Let me just say this right upfront: I used to think bird people were a little odd. Bird people don’t hold a candle to bunny folk. I’m not naming names because I don’t know if bunny folk even know how odd they are. But ever since my charming little bunny, Ivan, came into my life, I’ve found myself crossing virtual paths with some awfully eccentric bunny folk. Maybe weird people are attracted to bunnies, or maybe spending time with bunnies turns people weird, but there’s clearly some sort of association, so I’m going to be keeping a very close eye on myself.I recently received an invitation to Sparkle’s Bridal Shower and Master Hope’s Stag Party. I was too busy packing and renovating to go to a rabbit’s bridal shower. But this was one of those once-in-a-lifetime things, and I try to give serious consideration to all once-in-a-lifetime things. Besides, it was a virtual party, so I only had to go as far as my couch.
It was a spa-themed shower, and this is a small representative sampling of the photos. There was music, food, gifts, videos, all kinds of interesting things.
The weirdest thing about bunny folk is not that they have pretend parties for their bunnies. (Where I come from – the land of guinea pig and groundhog people – that would actually be considered relatively normal.) The weirdest thing about bunny folk is that they talk bunny talk – and not just at bunny parties either.
Bunny talk looks like this:
“Twinkle ere, mez wanna toast da hoppy copule. Master hope yoz twreats ma twin sissy yike a princess anz ford dat mez lubs yoz. Sparkle yoz ib ma sissy we bins tagefether since birf mez lubs yoz wif alld ob ma heart. Ma wish ford da bof of yoz is dat yoz make eachoder smile ebery dez, makes eachoder laugh ebery dez, and shard a quiet momnet ebery dez ta tellz eachoder that yoz lubs dem. Raise yoz glass Cheers”
For some bunny folk, bunny talk is their language of choice. It’s their first language, the language they write in on Facebook. You can’t help but wonder if it’s what they speak out loud – at home, to their children, in bed, to their husbands, at work, at parent-teacher interviews, to the customer support technician at Rogers.
Anyway. As much as I adore Ivan, I don’t think I’m in imminent danger of becoming a weird bunny person. I have no ability, or even any urge, to speak bunny talk…although I have noticed that my comprehension is improving.
In other news, Judy (Robin’s Judy) came to visit during a whirlwind trip through Ottawa the other day, and look what she brought me! She made them herself! Bunny slippers! Aren’t they the sweetest things you’ve ever seen in your whole entire life? I love, love, love my bunny slippers. (And as you can see, Ivan likes my bunny slippers too.)