Mum's the Word: Don't hold back on the Easter eggs
DO YOU give other people's kids chocolate? Do you relish being the favourite visitor who hands out the best goodies to the children, then gets to walk away leaving the parents to deal with the aftermath?
Well played... well played.
I don't mind if you give my kids chocolate. As the mum I can always say "no, you're not eating that now”, or I can make it disappear in a variety of ways (I'm actually getting quite creative with these), so they don't overindulge.
But when I received a note home from Master Five's principal, asking parents not to send chocolates to school for our kids to share with their friends, I couldn't help but laugh.
The reason why I thought it was so funny was they were citing a statistic from a book in the US on diabetes deaths in 2012 as the reason... ha, ha, ha.
While diabetes is obviously no laughing matter, this principal must have a sense of humour to think Preppies sharing a few small Easter eggs together could result in them suffering from the lifelong disease.
So I'm going to test the water.
Master Five loves it when I bake things for his friends, so that's what I'll do.
I'll march on into that classroom with my head held high holding two trays of chocolate cupcakes decorated in icing and Easter eggs.
Oh there'll be squeals of delight from the kids, the teacher will smile approvingly (she gets one too) and then there will be the looks from other parents... I can picture it now.
Disbelief from some, as to how I managed to cook these delicious treats before school drop-off, smiles from others who are thinking what a nice thing to do, and then the dreaded stares. The knock-you-down-from-10-feet stares.
The ones that bore holes straight through you as they hold their child close with fear of me shoving one in their face. I will smile, and then give a nod before disappearing out the door.
And as fabulous as that will be, the real fun will be in the kitchen where we'll make the chocolatey treats.
Miss Three is something of a bogan-princess. Strange but true. And she loves to help me cook. She'll likely doll up in her heels, tiara and jewels, then take a poo in her toy kitchen sink before running into the kitchen and sticking her hands in the mixture before I can scream "stoooopppp”.
On second thoughts, I better make the cupcakes the night before, once Miss Three is fast asleep in bed.