“Mom, on the night before Easter did YOU fill our baskets with candy and toys?”
What? The Easter Bunny did that, remember?” I replied to my 5 year old.
“No. He’s not real. I don’t believe in that. I know it was you Mom,” he responded with the logical coldness of a surgeon telling you bad news.
“Oh. Well. Whatever you say. Why don’t you believe in him?”
“Bunnies don’t lay eggs” he said, matter of factly.
“It’s a MAGICAL bunny,” I retorted.
“It doesn’t make sense to me. Who made the Easter Bunny?” he replied, and I just stared at him, wondering what else he would say, “God? God didn’t make the Easter Bunny! He doesn’t make MAGICAL BUNNIES!”
“Well…maybe a chicken fell in love with a bunny and they got married and had a baby bunny that was able to lay eggs because his mother was a chicken,” I responded, feeling rather witty, “THAT makes sense, doesn’t it.”
“Uh, no Mom,” he rolled his eyes, “That DOESN’T make sense. That’s an Easter CHICKEN.”
“Well,” I said, pulling the trump card, “I guess you’re too grown up to believe in fairies and magical bunnies and such, so I’ll write a letter to the Easter Bunny telling him you don’t believe in him anymore and to save the Easter baskets for little boys who still believe in him. These magical creatures have the best treats, but they don’t give them to kids who are too smart to believe in them anymore.”
“There are no such thing as fairies!” he insisted, further breaking my heart, “The only real fairy is…the TOOTH fairy. But don’t write him a letter! I still want my basket.”
And so went my afternoon. I gave my little boy a hug and whispered, “There are a lot of mysteries in the world and you’ll never understand them all.”
Then I traipsed off to the kitchen to eat some of his Easter candy, because we all know candy isn’t healthy for small children. Especially cynical children.