A month ago, Ryan was saying that there was no way a bunny could bring Easter baskets to our house. "It can't be real" he told his little brother. With Easter about a month away, I figured we would soon have to have the talk.
Yesterday, Ry flies into the house screaming something that he has to go upstairs and check his room to see what the leprechauns brought him. I caught him before he ran up the stairs because Elle was napping. "Sorry honey. Leprechauns do not come to this house." He said he didn't understand. I was just in Ireland and we decorate for St. Patrick's Day so they must come. They came to school.
I exhaled and put down my tea. Since when was St. Patrick's Day a kids holiday? I know this sounds horrible. I think of it as a party day. Maybe some West siders really go downtown sober to watch the parade but most of us either party or wish we were. Teachers have really gotten into stories about leprechauns and each classroom has a story about their desks being turned over, gold coins being left and little tricks being played. When did this all start? And isn't Ryan done with the Easter Bunny, Leprechauns and Santa? If he wasn't, I better get in the game.
I exhaled again and grabbed our big tub of old candy. Sorted out the gold and green ones and hurried up the stairs. Messed up their messy room unsure if they would even notice and left the chocolates on their pillows. I left Irish flags in their rooms and green things on their beds.
As Elle woke from her nap, Ryan ran as fast as he could up the stairs. I felt relieved that I made the right choice. I knew I was holding onto these special days where he and Kyle still believed in magic. He loved telling me I was wrong that the leprechauns had come after all. I was completely wrong Ryan. Thank goodness I was.
The Open Road
4 years ago