It’s the Easter Bunny’s Fault

Easter candy

The figurative Old West horse tradin’ starts early in our family. Tristan was a three-year-old when he had it down pat. On Easter Sunday, after eating candy from his basket at regular intervals during the day, he stood in front of the closed door of my bedroom where I was resting and asked permission, yet again, to have another piece. “No,” I replied. “You’ve had enough sugar today.”

It was quiet for a while as he went to think about that, I guess. But he came back with “ammunition”, ready to meet me on my level. “I’ll give you a jelly bean if you don’t argue with me,” he said through the door. He then proceeded to shove a jelly bean through the crack underneath the door.

It was no great sacrifice; he didn’t like jelly beans. But it was a long time before I could stop laughing long enough to answer. And I confess, I said yes, just one more. Well, what else are you supposed to do when your three-year-old so clearly understands the concept of bartering???

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