A Long Life of Disappointment

This afternoon I finished a job which falls under the Mom Tasks category “Holiday Figurehead Stand-in” – that is, I took over the Easter Bunny’s job of buying a few toys for the baskets.  The Bunny will be bringing Ellen two new little trains (friends of Thomas), and Cecilia a little spinning thing that will keep her entertained for a few minutes at a time. 

I left the bag in the car because there was no good way to get it inside without Ellen seeing it.  So on our way to swimming lessons Dave saw the bag and said, in a way that he intended to be heard and answered by Ellen, “what’s THIS?!?!”  My masterful “frantic yet subtle” hand gesture successfully communicated that Dave was not to pursue this line of questioning, and when Ellen asked “what’s WHAT?” he picked up an interesting piece of plastic on the car mat and feigned extreme curiosity, then handed Ellen his iPhone so she could do one of her puzzle apps. 

To continue distracting Ellen, I said to her “hey, we’d better go visit the Easter Bunny soon.”

“Why?” she asked.

“Well, so he knows what to put in your basket.  Don’t you think he wants some ideas?” I said.

“I guess so,” replied Ellen. 

Now, I know I may not have planned my Easter Bunny purchasing very well.  I probably should have waited until Ellen visited the Easter Bunny, told him what she wanted, and then gotten the answer out of her so that I could purchase her requests (within reason).  So, I posed my next question with a bit of trepidation. “What do you think you’ll ask him to bring for you?” I said. My mind was working through what the consequences would be if the present received did not match the present requested, when said present was requested of a supposedly magic Bunny who, if he can’t keep all the Easter-celebrating kids’ toys straight, is NOT very lovable (or even believable) as a holiday figurehead.

I looked back and could see her in my rearview mirror skillfully manipulating Dave’s phone as she answered, without looking up, “well, I think I’d like my very own iPad.”  Hmm.

One year I asked the Easter Bunny for a kitten, and I was so sure he’d deliver that on the day before his much-anticipated arrival, I practiced saying “here kitty kitty kitty” ad nauseum, until it rolled off my tongue to my satisfaction.  I awoke the next morning to discover that the Easter Bunny was a non-kitten-delivering schmuck.  My chocolate eggs tasted of bitter disappointment that day. 

So it begins for Ellen.