Easter Morning. 7 am. My son wakes me up. 7 am. 7 am?
If I remember right, when I was a kid, my siblings and I would have been awake for at least two hours by the time 7 am rolled around.
The egg hunt. They hunt, not even bothering to look at the big stash on the kitchen table until they've found most of the eggs.
The big stash, the one with the bulk of chocolate and cheap toys, ignored!!! And get this, the eggs from the hunt went into a communal bowl and Catherine and Harry decided they'd divide them evenly later. Good Lord.
They finally approach the big stash. They each grab their huge Kinder eggs, open them, put aside the chocolate, and put together the toys.
When I was a kid we inhaled chocolate. No putting it aside silliness for us!
They ask for breakfast.
What!?! When I was a kid the chocolate WAS our breakfast! And our lunch. And our supper. And breakfast the next day.
It is now almost 11 am. Most of the chocolate remains untouched. A couple of suckers were consumed (who eats the suckers when there's chocolate around?) but the big bunnies and creme eggs remain.
I went wrong somewhere in the raising of them. They're considerate, reasonable and lacking in the proper helping of greed. And the worst thing is, I have no idea how to fix this.