“Easter, please, Mummy.”

“Easter is on Sunday, Ian. Wait til Sunday.”

“Easter,” he insisted. “Easter, please, Mummy.”

Ian loves a party. He always has. Especially if there’s cake and candles and presents – he’s like Eeyore from the Winnie-the-Pooh stories, with smaller ears ….. 😉

So in an effort to fulfil Ian’s Easter needs, I bought a cake, decorated with chicks and bunnies and flowers, and got him a new book, which I wrapped, just to make a proper occasion of it.

“Easter, please, Mummy.”

The day finally arrived. Easter Sunday. And Ian had his special cake, looked at his new book, and had a celebratory lunch at his grandmother’s house.

And he was still asking for ‘Easter’.

After lunch, something – perhaps desperation – seeped through Ian’s brain, and he amended his request :

“Backpack, please, Mummy.”

Suddenly, I knew what he was after.

Hidden in his backpack, a gift from his carers at the day center —

An Easter egg.

There was chocolate in his backpack.

I looked at Ian, and smiled. “You mean chocolate, don’t you?”

“Chocolate,” answered Ian with a grin. “Yes, please, Mummy.”

Finally, the ‘Easter’ issue was dealt with. Ian had a chunk of chocolate Easter egg in his hands, and was happy.

And if you’re wondering ‘Why didn’t you give your children their own Easter eggs?’, I knew their grandmother had already bought them enough chocolate to sink a battle ship. There’s only a limited amount of room for chocolate in this house, and the boys don’t eat much of it anyway.

Interestingly, even though Ian got a ginormous Easter egg from his Gran, he was only really interested in the one in his backpack.

The other will keep.

Til next Easter, maybe …..

😊