My Son Just Found Out The Easter Bunny Does’t Exist

Easter Baskets

The title explains it all. It happened 50 minutes ago and I feel like the biggest ass hole on Earth. There are no words to describe this failure. You would have to pull together all the words that mean failure to describe what just happened. Here, let me try: this was a botchedbusteddecayeddeclinedefeatbombedfailure.

My husband, sons, their friends and myself went to the Columbus Crew soccer game this evening and we didn’t get home till 11:30. I immediately took my 8 year old-C up to bed and tucked him in. His normal bedtime is 8:30 so I was confident he would be asleep in minutes.

Being almost midnight, I began the daunting task of hiding eggs, putting money in plastic eggs and putting together the Easter baskets. By now my husband had joined in and had his own dozen he was placing in various places in the kitchen. My oldest-P was lazily lounging on the sofa, texting, not a bit interested in helping us hide eggs. I was wiping off the eggs that were still wet from the dying when I thought I heard shuffling. I immediately froze and peered down the hall to see if someone had gotten up. False alarm.

Just as I placed an egg on a dining room chair I heard, “Mom! What are you doing?”

I froze. I looked up to find C in the hallway with his arms crossed. It was as if I was a disobedient teen, sneaking in past curfew. I hid the egg in my hand in the paper towel in my other hand.

“We’re just getting the eggs ready for the Easter bunny,” I said, thinking this was an amazing save.

“Mom?!” My son asked skeptically.

I looked at my husband for reinforcement. He laughed.

“What are you looking at me for?” He snorted.

“For support here!” I countered. By now, my oldest was practically in hysterics, listening to the exchange. He was covering his mouth, blocking the giggles that threatened to escape.

“Baby, come here.” C walked over in front of me. His eyes now began to glisten. “Do you want to know the truth?”

“Yeah, I do. The Easter bunny isn’t real, is it? God, I’m so stupid! No wonder you guys knew all the hiding places!”

“Baby…you aren’t stupid.” I said. I looked over at my husband once again, hoping he was going to have a plan by now to get us out of this nightmare. He just laughed.

“Ok, the truth is, the Easter bunny isn’t real. But we still LOVE to hide eggs and watch you find them!”

He began to whimper. “I bet Santa isn’t real either!”

I couldn’t handle 2 bomb shells within minutes of each other so I decided to lie once again.

“Baby no! They aren’t even in the same bucket. 2 totally different things. Santa is real!”

He didn’t seem convinced.

So yeah, I’ve crushed my youngest’s dreams and I’m the worst mom on Earth. I was hoping we could keep this charade up for 2 more years but I pretty much ruined any chance of that. I hid the eggs and pray he wants to look for them tomorrow.



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