Easter Bunnies Do Not Lay Eggs

Dear Parent,

My two children came home to live on St. Patrick’s Day and Easter was the first holiday we celebrated together.  That is when it dawned on me that I had no idea how to raise children from difficult beginnings.  

Personally, I had no idea how the Easter egg thing could end up so disastrously.   

We dyed the eggs.  It was the biggest mess I had had in my house ever, but it kind of seemed fun.  Only kind of because I was a brand new parent and mess was not my middle name.  After it was all cleaned up and the last of the red, yellow, blue, green dye was scrubbed from the white countertops, I put the colorful eggs back in the cartons, slid them into the refrigerator and rushed the kids into bed.

Before dawn, I sneaked the eggs out into the garden where I hid them all about in good old fashioned Easter Bunny style.  I was in the shower when I heard screaming and the gnashing of little teeth.  Apparently the kids went to the refrigerator to “see” their eggs and they thought their eggs had been stolen.  I hopped out of the shower, wrapped in my robe, and scooped them up in my arms to soothe them.

No, no, no one stole your eggs, the Easter Bunny took them.  Then the hysterical crying began, “Why did the Easter Bunny steal our eggs?”  Waa…waa…waa…  “Where did he put them? Why? Why?”

Apparently, this cultural tradition is not shared by everyone or at least these children never had the experience I had in my childhood.  My parents always hid the eggs in the yard before I woke up.  I did the same thing.  I didn’t realize that I needed to explain what was going to happen at every turn.  My kids interpreted the world in such a fearful way.  The worst was their first thought. 

At that point I couldn’t wait until I got to lie to them about Santa Claus.

Love matters,

Ce

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