To all ye perpetrators of holiday deception laboring with the weight of your well-meant betrayal, the fear of future reckoning, this is how the veil is pierced: with a cottony soft tail and whisker kiss:
Mommy, will you remind the Easter Bunny to come?
How gingerly, how tenderly she asks so as not to shatter the dyed green eggshell of my illusion.
Neither parents, nor parents’ secrets, are much mystery to their kin. And this truth-in-common is what we celebrate, indeed, what we should celebrate, every day.
I’m betting the place is hopping tonight.