Because we have an exceedingly busy weekend ahead of us, I spent a portion of last night stuffing our children's Easter baskets.
Aside from the semi-healthy treats like fruit strips and those vacuum-packed foils of pureed fruit that Caedmon can suck dry in thirty seconds flat, their totes are mostly filled with the requisite hollow plastic eggs. Each child received a couple balloons, a bouncy ball, and some yogurt-covered raisins in a few of those.
The rest of the eggs are filled with prunes.
Now, before you start shaking your head and feeling sorry for our kids, hear me out. Prunes have a lot going for them. They're all kinds of healthy, reasonably sweet, and come in these handy individually-wrapped packages, so that the inside of the eggs don't get all sticky. Plus you know those kids are going to need something to keep them regular after all that junk they'll get everywhere else.
Convinced yet? Then let me share the rest of my reasoning behind the prune-stuffed Easter eggs.
It all boils down to the fact that I'm kind of regretting introducing our kiddos to the concept of the Easter bunny. And no, it's not because I hate rabbits (well, not just because of that). It's because when you're trying to keep your kids' minds on the real reason for Easter- Jesus- it's really hard to compete with candy and a giant rabbit just scary enough to make him exciting.
Obviously, I should have thought all this through when Adelaide was still very young. But when you have your first kid, you're not thinking straight. Holidays get an extra dose of excitement because you can't wait to introduce your brand new kid to all those fun traditions you remember enjoying as a child.
I remember Adelaide's first Easter; my head was full of my favorite Easter dresses and Easter goodies, particularly the basket that contained an actual Barbie doll that I received the Easter we were at Grandma's house. Why is it the Easter bunny is always so much more generous when you're at Grandma's house? It's a mystery.
Suddenly, it's five years later, you have not one, but three Easter baskets to fill, and you just can't bring yourself to fill it with things that will make your offspring love a huge garden pest. So you fill it with prunes.
And if your kid looks at their friends' baskets and starts asking, "Why didn't the Easter bunny bring me all that stuff? Why doesn't the Easter bunny like me?" your ready-made answer can be something along the lines of, "That Easter bunny is a fickle fellow. And honey, while the Easter bunny may not like you, Jesus always loves you."
Sounds like a plan guaranteed not to blow up in my face.
Even I, however, felt a modicum of guilt over stuffing my little darlings' buckets with dried plums, so I also stuck a big specially-shaped slab of chocolate in the older two's baskets. Not in the shape of bunnies, though, oh, no. Our kids' chocolate is in the shape of an ichthys and reads, "Jesus."
Because what says, "Happy Easter!" better than Jesus chocolate?