I can't believe I didn't write about it when it happened. I think maybe I was trying to pretend it wasn't real, but OH, IT WAS REAL.
Anyway.
The beginning. Let's start there, shall we?
The beginning looks a little like I'm sure it does at everyone's house. Easter rolls around and it's time to hide the eggs. A half-awake and desperate-for-sleep Easter Bunny wobbles around and hides eggs and then immediately curses herself out for not creating a map.
Where is Dora and her damn Map when you need her?
That's to say, the eggs are hidden, but WHERE? It sure would be nice to remember that detail.
Easter morning rolls around and certain children who are opposed to sleep wake up at Oh My Hell o'Clock and immediately set out to find the eggs. Certain Easter Bunnies are HUGE FANS of sleep and do whatever they can to pretend there is no reason to crawl out of bed. Worlds collide and I end up with a kid who is gleeful that she has a basket full of eggs, but I know she missed some. I KNOW. I just don't know which ones.
So every year I roam the house with Alexis and try to find the eggs that were missed. It's a rather fruitful activity in that I end up with about a dozen peanut butter eggs that I can totally claim as my own, but we always miss some. ALWAYS.
No matter what I do and how thoroughly I search, we will always continue to find Easter eggs long after the Easter Bunny has sailed into the sunset.
That's how it happened. That's how it came to be that Alexis found herself curled up next to me on the couch making a confession.
"Momma, I have to tell you something," she started. That's the line she uses when she's about to admit something she is absolutely certain is bad. Very bad. Usually the reality is that it's something itty bitty and I end up laughing hysterically at how very serious she is that she had to admit she spit out a bite of a cookie and threw it away three weeks ago. (That is part of a very true story. The kid is ... odd. And has one hell of a guilty conscious.)
"I found an Easter egg and I ate the candy out of it without asking permission," she continued.
THE NERVE. HOW DARE SHE.
Here's the thing. That little confession happened ... TWO WEEKS AGO. BEFORE EASTER 2013. That candy was at least a year old. Possibly two years old. Maybe older. I don't know! I can't ever find all of the eggs!
And that is how I learned that it's OK to eat really old chocolate. YUM!
