Saturday night, as the girls were going to bed, I went to Target and shopped for the Easter Bunny. You know, the EB needs help with these sorts of things.
Then I came home, loaded the eggs, and we “hid” them all over the house. Some were fairly obvious — in corners of bookshelves, on window ledges, on the sofa. Others were not — on top of a door, inside the piano, behind a crystal bowl on the entry table. The baskets were loaded and put just inside the front door, one on each side of the foyer doorway.
We went to bed with the baby monitor in Alice’s room cranked up so we’d be able to hear everything as it unfolded in the morning.
Normally, Helen comes up to our room around 6:30, much to our dismay. We are not morning people. As far as we can tell, Helen is the ONLY morning person in this house, now that we’ve gotten Alice on a decent sleeping schedule (what a difference a year makes!). So we fully expected her to be in our room by 6:30 on Easter Morning. Not this time. This time, she was distracted.
First report, made to a sleeping Alice (and overheard by suddenly-not-sleeping-anymore parents through the baby monitor): “ALICE! ALICE! THE EASTER BUNNY CAME!! There was an Easter Egg ON MY BED, ALICE! And all over the playroom! In your SHOE, in MY shoe, on the TABLE, on the STAIRS. There are eggs EVERYwhere! I’m gonna go look for more eggs. I’ll be right back.”
A delay of about 45 seconds. Alice is jumping up and down in her crib, squealing, “Eggs! Eggs! Eggs! Eggs!”
Helen returns: “ALICE! I have our EASTER BASKETS! Look! I got a bathing suit! and a book! and some sandals! and… uh… I don’t know what that is [it was a night light]… LOOK, Alice!”
“Eggs! Eggs! Eggs!”
“And the eggs have CANDY in them, Alice! Here!”
“M Ms! M Ms! M Ms! CANdeeeee! Eggs! Eggs!”
Finally, about 25 minutes after all of this started (which was most amusing to listen to, I must admit), Helen came up to our room. We feigned sleep as she discovered the Easter egg that had been left on OUR bed, and then she excitedly told us ALL about her discoveries that morning.
All the while, the baby monitor played a continuous “Eggs! Eggs! Eggs! Eggs!” soundtrack in the background.
Downstairs, Alice sat in her crib, chocolate all around her mouth, pointing wildly at the pile of candy that Helen had emptied out of several eggs onto the floor. “Mo! Mo candeeee, Mommy!”
No pictures, since we were in bed listening to it, not wanting to destroy the moment by appearing at the top of the stairs with a camera. Some memories are best left to the imagination, after all. And it was a sweet moment between sisters that we got to witness.
We’ll have to remember to use the baby monitor again on Christmas.