Four is such a magical age. Especially around the silly holiday traditions, mostly involving imaginary creatures that break into your home at night and leave you gifts. I have had to adjust my "Easter Bunny helper" protocol from dropping some plastic eggs and bags of candy into the cart, knowing that the girls would quickly forget and "discover" the treats on Easter morning.
No. They remember things. Curiously detailed things, sometimes. Now I have to procure a babysitter to stealthily hop on over to Target and hide my stash in the coat closet upon my return. Not to mention the confused look from the sitter upon your arrival from a "date night" bogged down with overflowing plastic bags.
It's an awful lot more work. However totally worth it to witness the glee and excitement of the girls' coming down the stairs to behold the magical stash an oversized rabbit has left for them.
Basically, I have two hours each day in which I have to get a profusion of little chores accomplished. Yesterday I was determined to get the Easter items stuffed, unwrapped, and perfectly placed. It was a photofinish. By the time I heard squeals from Little Man's monitor I had just barely hid the Eastery fun back in the closet.
Apparently I was careless in my hasty clean up. As the twins descended the stairs, I heard a squealing commotion. "A chickie egg!"
This is where my superior improvisational skills kicked into action. (thank you, High School Drama Club!) "Yes!" I explained, "The Easter Bunny must have stopped by and left you one egg to remind you both to be good girls so he can come back and leave you lots of eggs and big baskets full of fun toys! Do you think you can be good girls so the Easter Bunny can come to our house?"
I'm thinking you can probably guess the answer I got to that question. I just love these little holidays... to lord over the kids into behaving properly.