Easter Bunny Busted

Georgia (my four year old, the littlest, and the one we call Baby her picture is down further) walks up to me while I'm reading and sits on my lap looking very serious, and asks "Did the Easter Bunny just leave candy in your room?" "What do you mean?" I ask trying to play stupid, and trying to think of an escape route to avoid having a conversation I just don't want to have. However, I already knew when this conversation began, that she knew how it was going to end. It was the way and tone she asked that first question. Like she was a wrestler shooting for the kill right as the match begins. She asked me a question that had specific information in it, that I knew I didn't have enough information to answer without getting pinned, nailed, caught.

So she answers my question "there is bags of candy that are on your bed, that is in my basket." This is not good. This is the kind of mistake Suzi has been warning me about for years. The mistake can also be made at Christmas time, when the same gift wrap is used to wrap Santa's gifts, as the parents gifts. I laughed at Suzi the first time she told me of this, no kid would catch that mistake. Maybe I should have said, I as a child would have never caught that mistake. My children seem to catch that kid of stuff.

So I answer, "that's my candy, can't I have some candy that's mine?" Well unfortunately she has already won this debate, she has out smarted me. It may not be clear to all why that maybe, but it was clear to Georgi, and I. See she, and I know the answer to that question even before I finished it.

She says "no it's not." I insist "sure it is". She shakes her head in the negative fashion with very short quick shakes like she does when she's positive she's right. A very confident shake. "Why not?" I ask. And she answers "You don't like candy". This is the truth, she knew it, I knew it, everyone in the family knew it. If I was going to keep treats in my room is sure is heck isn't going to be Easter candy, Christmas candy, candy candy, cotton candy, or any other kind of candy. I haven't liked candy since I was a kid. It made my tooth ache one day, and I haven't touched the stuff since. It was a horrible experience, and I've never been the same. Sure you wouldn't know by looking at me, but I tend to stay away from the sugar stuff.

So where do I go from here? The four year old is kicking my butt in a verbal joust so far, and I haven't found a way out of the conversation. So I ask "dear what are you asking me?" "I know who the Easter Bunny is" she states. We all know what she's going to say here, so I decide to go with the "lets just get it all out in the open, so I can mock the idea" approach. It's never worked before, so maybe this time where it does. Probably not really good reasoning, but you know I'm losing to a four year old here. "And who might that be" I ask. She pokes her pointer finger on my forehead. "What? What are you getting at sweety?" "Dad are you the Easter Bunny?"

Patrick (my eleven year old) is standing close by with Sam and Hannah, and he being the good boy that he is trys to change the topic, offer a reasonable excuse for why the candy is on my bed, but she doesn't even give the theory a chance. I've got a question, why the heck was the candy on the dag gone bed? It wasn't there when I when to bed! Wasn't there when I got up. Wasn't there when I was getting ready for church. Wasn't there when I got home. It's magical candy. Magically appears, and makes me a retard. Why not Mom, why can't she be having this discussion. She wouldn't have had this thing all wrapped up by now.

Anyhow, so all the kids are standing close by, and I lean in really close to Georgia, and I whisper in her ear so the others kids can't hear, and I say "Georgi you are by far the smartest, and most brilliant of all my children. So smart, so beautiful, so brilliant, and so young" She leaned back and smiled at me, and I kissed her on her cheeky cheek. She slide down off my lap grabbed Hannah's hand and took off to some where else. And she was ok to leave the conversation just where it was, and so was I.