Seriously, you guys, just when I start to think my kids are little angels, I find something awesome like this:
This is true. You see Peeps. And Peeps are, indeed, awesome. So awesome that I ensured each child had a pack in their Easter basket. (Side note: don’t even get me STARTED on the three-pack not being individually wrapped. You can’t separate the three packs and keep them sealed! Hey Peeps People! That’s NOT a three-pack! That’s a REALLY BIG ONE-PACK.)
Anyway, my children were so thrilled about their Peeps windfall (and apparently so moved and changed by their Easter Sunday morning) they got home from church and promptly stole 2 Peeps and lied about it.
But wait. It gets better.
As a consequence for the aforementioned behavior, Matt took the rest of the Peeps and threw them in the trash. (Yes, really in the trash – not fake-in-the-trash-but-really-mommy-is-going-to-eat-them-all-tonight-when-you’re-not-watching.) (Not that that’s ever happened.)
That was EIGHT DAYS AGO, right? So, imagine my surprise TODAY, when I’m lying on the floor coloring with Molly in her bedroom and something under her bed catches my eye. I move in for a closer look, and MOLLY WHY IS THERE AN EMPTY PEEPS PACKAGE UNDER YOUR BED.
Cue deer in headlights.
For a moment I’m not sure which is more concerning – that she apparently snuck the Peeps OUT OF THE TRASH or that she has ZERO concept of destroying the evidence. I compose myself just in time for Owen’s innocent entrance. Imagine his surprise as I greet him with, “WHERE ARE YOUR PEEPS, SON.” His eyes go wide and the poor kid can’t help but sheepishly smile and say, “Well. I’m sorry.”
That’s awesome, kid. PEEPS. NOW.
I follow Owen to his room where he reveals his Peeps stash. Impressively, he has five left. Aside from grieving the fact that my children are sneaky little rug rats (whom I STILL LOVE, MOM), what I find most interesting (and humorous) about the entire situation is the difference in how they handled their loot. Molly’s pink Peeps were obliterated – all eaten, packaging thrown hastily under her bed. Owen’s, on the other hand, had been rationed. Based on the number remaining, he had allowed himself one Peep per day. I literally do not understand how one does this. (No question which child takes after
All this to say, I am currently debating the appropriate consequence for their sneaky behavior. I am also debating if next time the fake-in-the-trash-but-really-mommy-is-going-to-eat-them-all-tonight-when-you’re-not-watching method is actually the safest bet. (For the children’s sake, of course.)