Out girl just turned six, and so far I have to say I love this age so much. She is smart and sweet and snuggly, flexing her independence little by little while still needing me to sing to her every night before bed. She is funny and developing her own sense of humor, though she can be infuriating when she’s stubborn or grumpy. She is (usually) fun to take places and she has a great sense of adventure. One of my favorite things about this age is that she still knows that Santa, the Tooth Fairy, and the Easter Bunny are REAL. It is awesome.
This past Christmas I got the feeling she was starting to wonder about Santa. Namely, the pure logistics of Santa’s Christmas Eve: how can he POSSIBLY deliver so many gifts to so many houses? We talked a lot about it and she offered up a variety of theories but in the end, she was just happy he showed up. This past weekend, she began to ask us the same kinds of questions about the Easter Bunny: how does he do it? And as we fell asleep the night before Easter, I wondered if this was it – if we are on the cusp of non-believing. My heart broke a little at the thought. But Sunday morning after she crawled into bed with us, a neighbor’s garage door made a loud SCREEEEECH as it opened up, and that screech saved the day.
“MOM! DID YOU HEAR THAT?” she stage-whispered.
“Yep, I think that was a…”
“IT WAS THE EASTER BUNNY’S CARRIAGE! HE CAME! HE CAME AND HE’S LEAVING NOW!”
I loved it. I just ate it up and snuggled her even closer. “Yes it was!” I said.