This afternoon, at my folks place, we dined like Kings. There was a Ham AND a Turkey. (I had both) Stuperman came wandering into the kitchen, hungry and coming down from his fourth or fifth Sugar High. I got down on my knees to give him a quick cuddle. He was looking at the oven.
The Turkey was beautiful, golden brown and swimming in juices. It smelt wonderful. Stuperman Pointed at it, So I told him that it was the Easter Bunny. He giggled and said "Eater Bunneh!" Ignoring the gasps of dismay from the three other mothers in the kitchen, I took that as A Sign that I should continue.
I explained that Grandpa had heard a noise in the middle of the night and had killed the Easter Bunny by mistake and so now we would be eating him for dinner. Stuperman thought this was hilarious.
Later on, during the carving of the
Since the Death of the Easter Bunny was such a hit with the baby, I brought Blue Boy over and explained what had happened.
His eyes filled with tears and his little lip trembled. Then He realised it was me he was talking to and yelled, "Dat NOT de Easter Bunny! I'm not eating Dat!!"
I tried my damnedest to convince him, I even offered him the fluffy bunny tail, arguably the best tasting bunny part there is. He was adamant and I finally had to quit trying to convince him when it looked like he was ready to punch me.
I moved on to Rainbow Man, who was playing his Nintendo DS in the living room. Again, I patiently explained what had happened with the Bunny during the night. I offered him a hug and said it would be OK. He looked up from his Game Boy, sighed and annoyingly adult sounding Sigh, and said "It's just a Turkey Mom, But I will play your game if you want."
They Grow Up So Damn Fast.