Happy Easter!

7 04 2012

There are only two times a year when it’s socially acceptable to terrorize your child: Christmas and Easter.

My daughter has, from an early age, shown a marked preference for me (naturally enough, I suppose, since I’m her mother).  So when we went to visit Santa, I felt I was GUARANTEED one of those baby-screaming-on-Santa’s-lap photos.  Not that I was, you know, looking forward to it, I just thought it was inevitable.  My relief (disappointment) when she happily sat in the arms of the weird bearded guy was slightly mitigated by the fact that she immediately pooped (though I will never forgive the well-fitting Fuzzibuns diaper that heroically contained the mess and therefore ruined a truly picture-perfect photo op).

Three months later, my girl is all the more aware of people who are NOT HER MOM.  She is known to start screaming STRANGER DANGER! if someone other than me tries to hold her (like her dad).  So when I saw this mall Easter Bunny, I thought for sure we would get an angry/scared/indignant-baby-pic.


She was enchanted.  This thing was like her teddy bear!  Like her stuffed dog!  Like all her favorite toys in GIANT, LIFE SIZE form and it was HOLDING HER!

She immediately did to the Easter Bunny what she does to all her favorite toys: she tried to eat him.

It was, like, the best day of her life.

She was SO HAPPY that I wasn’t even sorry that she kind of preferred him to me… Well, I might have been, if her joy had lasted a few more minutes before she decided she wanted her mom back.



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