Holiday Aftermath

"Mommy...I want candy."

I sigh. This is how every morning has begun since the Easter Bunny so kindly bestowed baskets full of jelly beans, Peeps, chocolate bunnies, and skittles upon my children. The older children have not asked very often...but I would be willing to bet that if I made them turn out their pockets, we would find wrappers and squished remnants of sugar-coated marshmallow.

"No, Irelynn...you just woke up. You need breakfast first."

"I play with bubbles?"

"Not now. Maybe later."

I am still finding bits of brightly colored Easter grass on the carpet...and chair...and along the couch.

"I like the Easter Bunny."

"You do? Yeah, he's pretty cool."

"I like Santa Claus."

"Santa, too, huh?"

"Yes. I invite them to my birthday. I have candy now?"

"No Irelynn."

I walk around the living room, picking up plastic wrap from various toys. I thought you only had to do this at Christmas. What happened to simple Easters? You get a stuffed bunny, a book, and some candy. Now it almost rivals Christmas...all we need is an isolated forest workshop for the bunny and his garden gnomes who work hard every year making toys...and Peeps.

What...is...that...smell? I get down on my hands and knees and crawl along the couch, looking underneath until I find...a broken Easter egg. The inside is mashed into the carpet. Ugh.

"Mommy? I have candy now?"

I look at the clock. It says 8:30am. I pick up what I can of the egg in the carpet...walk into the kitchen...and pull out the Peeps.

"Here."

"Thank you, Mommy!!"

((sigh))

I think I'll forego the Peep and head straight for the chocolate bunny, myself.