PA
I really was very much looking forward to writing about Easter from the perspective of a two-year-old. I'd invested quite a lot of time in the previous weeks, building up the excitement and anticipation.
Ignoring Ava's slightly aghast expression, I'd ploughed on with the necessary information about the giant rabbit with the bow around his neck and the basket in his paw, who was going to hop around the garden depositing eggs among the foliage. I particularly enjoyed Ava's version of it as she relayed it to one of my friends:
"There's big wabbit, and he HOP HOP! And he lay eggs..."
(I could see I had undone some of my good work in educating about animals): "No darling, the rabbit doesn't lay eggs, he just hides them."
"Oh. Wabbit HIDE eggs and then eggs BOO! And wabbit eat choc-lot. In garden."
So she sort of got it. The whole chocolate connection, if not the slightly scary rabbit, made the prospect of Easter "sooooo exciting!" and everyone was looking forward to it immensely.
Unfortunately, as is often the case when you have toddlers, Easter did not go quite to plan. Rather than being visited by the Easter bunny, we were visited by the Easter Vomiting Bug.
It was not as kind as the bunny. It did not have a bow around its neck, it did not hop, it wouldn't even allow anyone in the garden. It did bring Easter eggs, but unfortunately we'd seen those particular eggs earlier in the day, and they were fairly unattractively wrapped in half-digested lunch.
I won't describe the scene further, I'd hate to make you all chuck up all over your stash of chocolate, but suffice to say, with high temperatures and very little sleep, Easter pretty much sucked.
And I think Ava actually blames the rabbit. I suppose the mental leap she has made is a fairly logical one: the bunny brings the chocolate, the chocolate brings the vomit – therefore, the bunny brings the vomit. That's one b**tard bunny (her intimation, but my actual words).
I do plan to still do the Easter egg hunt that was intended for Sunday (I'll use all the ones that were passed to me quietly in plastic bags without Ava even being aware) but it won't be the Easter bunny hiding the eggs, perhaps something else that hops. Ava's only two, she won't remember this next year right?
I don't want to be stuck with a flippin' Easter frog for the next 10 years.
Was your Easter better than Pip's? Hope so.