My son cheated on Easter, and I couldn’t have been more proud!

As Easter fast approaches, I am reminded of a time not too long ago when my son took his first steps to become a man… He cheated on Easter.

It all started around 5:00 am on that fateful morning. The “Easter Bunny” had just hidden a basket full of colored eggs throughout the house. This happens every year and the children look forward to getting up in the morning and hunting them down.

They are very competitive, my children. I have seen them cleverly disorient when they see an egg and a brother or sister stands between them and their prize. It’s absolutely fun to watch.

My son, the youngest of four, never finds as many eggs as the rest and it really seems like he’s taking it personally. It doesn’t help when his EXTREMELY competitive older sister dances around her, taunting him with her basket full of brightly colored eggs, laughing at how miserable my son has made him. He’s terribly sad actually, but what’s a mother to do?

Anyway, it’s around five in the morning and I hear a little tapping of feet. I listen intently for a while and hear these footsteps throughout the house. I sneak to the bedroom door, very carefully, just in case he’s a very skinny, light-footed thief, and what do I see?

My son! He is running around looking for all the eggs! He doesn’t pick them up or anything; he’s just mapping out in his head where everyone is hiding.

He continues his search for a few moments, then hurries back to bed. I almost peed from laughing so hard. I knew exactly what my little man was doing and I couldn’t have been more proud.

To win in this incredibly unfair and often unfair life, you have to do whatever it takes, and if you’re handicapped by size or strength, that would certainly include cheating. I know it sounds horrible, but you have to admit, that was very smart of him!

This is how it developed. My son lies down for a while and around six he jumps out of bed very excited, waking everyone up. He runs around all surprised and everything, “Look at the Easter baskets,” he yells, “and the eggs we left outside are gone, the Easter Bunny must have hidden them!”

It was a wonderful performance, really; worthy of an academy award.

So they go egg hunting and my son is really hoarding them. You should have seen my daughter, she was crazy. She could barely contain her laughter and my husband was looking at me at that point like he had lost his mind or something so I told him what he had witnessed earlier.

My ex was a pretty uptight guy and I don’t think he approved of my son’s behavior and he gave me one of those looks like this was my doing. Anytime the kids do something wrong, it’s always my fault.

“That’s the Madson in them,” he’d read, “They certainly didn’t learn that kind of behavior from me!” Of course they didn’t give you the boring little excuse of a man…sorry, I strayed a bit.

However, the story does not end there. His words about my influence resonated even louder that evening at my father’s house where we meet every year for Easter dinner. We eat well, then chat a bit as we digest our food, and then the older boy, who no longer believes in the Easter Bunny, gets stuck hiding eggs in the yard for all the little kids.

Now, you have to understand here that these eggs are not real eggs like the ones we hide in my house in the morning, rather they are made of plastic and have all kinds of goodies inside. I’m a huge fan of candy and simply by the law of association, I get half of all my kids’ loot.

Unfortunately, that was the year one of my daughters joined the ranks of the unbelievers and was disqualified from the hunt. This really upset me because now I only had two little ones out there looking for my treats and as I already mentioned my son was really pretty bad unless he cheated.

Desperate times call for desperate measures and when the gun rang to begin the hunt, I found myself giving my children secret hand signals as to where the eggs were hidden. It’s not horrible? My brother-in-law saw me doing it, too, only his kid can’t walk yet, so he had nothing to gain by ratting me out (though he later blackmailed me for a Snickers bar).

I don’t feel bad or anything about how it all played out. My tummy was a bit sore from all the chocolate I ate, but it was worth it and the pain was gone soon. I certainly didn’t lose any sleep over the matter.

Of course, my ex found out later and I got another one of those looks, but as I saw it, I was fixated on chocolate until at least my birthday and you have to admit, that’s the best definition of winning over a woman with an addiction. to the goodies could wait!