Bunnies of Doom

Apparently I am a mean mom because I gave Baby Butch and Elle stuffed bunnies. I bought one for each of them at the grocery store last night with J-Bird’s selection assistance.

Innocently….I thought they would love to have bunnies. The bunnies are very sweet and soft. Who doesn’t like a soft bunny, right?

Deviously….I like buying things that are way too young for them and then guilt them into cuddling with the unwanted gift. This allows me to enjoy a moment of pretending they are still little. Manipulative? Yes,  100%.

I am both aware of the futility of this and also willing to own that it I is my truth. I relish that fleeting ‘awwwwww’ adorable moment.

I’m that mom who would actually adore the ‘reenactment of a childhood photo’ wackiness that awkward adult children give their parents.

I am that mom who would see nothing wrong with announcing that J-Bird will 168 months old next week.

I am the mother who when I was told that some transgender folks celebrate a new birthday reflecting when they came out or when they start medically transitioning got excited because I figured that would make my J-Bird a baby again. I can restart the doom clock that has been ticking down toward him moving out and leaving the nest for college. Another 18 years!  Muahhaha!

J-Bird took these stuffed bunnies up to his sister’s rooms when we got home from the store. He said he would deliver them so they would find them when they got home later. I thought, “Awwwwww! How sweet! He is helping me with my unhealthy clinging to their babyhood by surprising them with me.”

Then I sat for several minutes replaying memories of their little faces lighting up with surprise when they found their Easter baskets. Their eyes wide as they would say,  “But how? The Easter Bunny is magic! He brought us toys and candy! I will always live next door to my mother even when I am 45.”

Ok, ok…they never said that last part. While I am dreaming I might as well fully flesh out my fantasy, right? But I digress…

J-Bird placed the bunnies. I sat downstairs and day dreamed of baby giggles and surprises.

BB got home from work,  Elle got home from SXSW. It was late. They went upstairs. I waited. Squealing began!

BB came bouncing downstairs and hugged my neck saying, “You’re the best…” Oh…wait. ..nope,  that was my imagination again.

BB actually came downstairs and said J-Bird set the bunnies like a creepy horror movie trap on the end of her bed…glaring. The bunny scared the hell out of her,  she ran into Elle’s room for comfort, they saw Elle’s demon bunny perched in creepy mode and were terrified again. The squealing I heard was apparently screams of fear.

Point to the J-Bird! Well done little brother.

I did get BB to cuddle it by the by. I had to threaten to cry but I got my moment. I am mothering you so hard! Muahhaha

 

1 Comment

  1. Friday

    I used to do the same thing for my kids. Up until I last saw him,a stuffed frog would bring out the little kid in my big man child. He is now grown and in his own world..I wonder if he still gets frogs…
    With my ?aughter, it’s penquins and cats. In sure she still squeals. Keep those evil mom moments going as long as they will tolerate it.

    Reply

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