A hoppy ending

Written by Amanda Coop

“Ooh, that’s cute,” I say, seeing a crate of Easter eggs with characters printed on the foil. “I think the Easter Bunny might have to bring one of those.”

Miss 10 rolls her eyes playfully. “Sure, the Easter Bunny,” she says with a smirk.

My sister, who’s out shopping with us, sends me a sad look. It had to happen sooner or later.

My little girl’s growing up. Every day she seems taller and more mature. The top of her head now reaches my shoulder and she’s becoming a beautiful, fun, funny young lady. But as much as I love seeing her grow and become her own person, she’s still my baby and I’d be lying if I said I’m not sad to see the hallmarks of childhood slipping away.

Acting as a helper to my friends Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny has been one of my very favourite parts of being a mum. Miss 10’s now a helper as well and she takes her role of keeping the magic alive for Mr 6 very seriously.

He asked me recently how big the Easter Bunny is.

“Umm, I don’t actually know,” I tell him. I’ve never thought about it.” That’s the truth.

“I guess just like a regular-sized bunny.”

“But how does he carry all that stuff?” Mr 6 questions quite reasonably.

“I don’t know,” I say, shrugging. “I just eat the chocolate and don’t ask questions.”

Mr 6 thinks for a moment.

“I think he poops out the chocolate,” he says, giggling.

“Well, that is sure some delicious-tasting poop,” I reply, knowing I’ll get a good laugh because when it comes to six-year-olds, it’s hard to go wrong with a poop joke.

Miss 10 also cackles with laughter.

“Now you know why I don’t eat chocolate!” she tells him, giving me a sly smile.

“Can’t you just tell him you do eat chocolate and then give it all to me?” asks my little chocolate addict (his mother’s son, indeed).

“Maybe,” she says, ruffling his hair before giving him a cuddle. “Depends if you’re a good boy and listen to Mum and Dad.”

“OK,” he says, an agreement which I’m sure will be broken within the next five to 10 minutes but is nonetheless touching to witness.

“Good work,” she says, and looks up to meet my eyes, visibly proud of herself for her quick thinking in striking such an arrangement.

I’m proud of her too. The Easter Bunny sure is a lucky bundle of fur to have such an awesome helper on hand.