My wife had to work the Saturday before this past Easter, leaving the boys and me to our own devices.
“Hey,” I said to them as soon as she left. “Let’s make an Easter basket for momma!”
They hesitated, looking confused.
“Come on,” I said. “It’ll be fun. We’ll pick out the candy and the basket, maybe a couple of toys…”
That did the trick. “Yeah,” my oldest said. “She loves chocolate!”
“And she’d love a toy helicopter,” his little brother chimed in.
I laughed. “It’s for her, not us.”
We had a lot of fun searching out just the right stuff for Momma’s Easter basket, then had some more adventures and headed back home to color eggs. By that time, my wife was back home, working on her computer.
“Distract Momma,” I said as we pulled into the garage. “I’ll sneak the basket upstairs, and then put it on her place after she goes to bed.”
Mission distraction was a success, and the rest of the day went smoothly.
Bedtime was late, as it always is the night before a holiday. After the lights were out, I heard them over the monitor, talking in their bedroom.
“Momma’s gonna love her basket,” my youngest said.
“Yeah,” his brother said. There was a long pause before he continued. “But I don’t think Daddy’s going to get one this year.” He sounded really sad.
No one spoke for several breaths. I looked at my wife, trying to figure out what to do.
“Yeah,” my youngest finally said. “I think you’re right.”
Fortunately, the Easter Bunny came through, leaving baskets for me and the boys. Apparently, the bunny saw Momma’s basket and decided there was no need to leave her an extra one.