Easter Baskets

I thought I was sly.

I thought I was clever.

Because when my three girls were little, instead of filling their Easter baskets with giant chocolate bunnies and jelly beans  and marshmallow peeps, I filled it with Spring things—t-shirts and little dresses and sandals and all the accessories like jewelry and pocketbooks for their Easter outfits. Sometimes the basket also had bathing suits and cover-ups if we had planned a May vacation. I also popped a VHS tape of whatever Disney Movie suspiciously came out from the vault at that exact time every year.

These were all purchases I would have made anyway but did so under the guise of Easter. The added bonus was I could feel good about not issuing cavity inducing and nutritionally devoid treats.

And for a long while this guileful plan was perfect.

As I perused some jewelry yesterday at the Kate Spade counter at Lord and Taylor, a woman who was right around my age struck up a conversation. She said I don’t know how this happened. When my daughter was little I used to go to Claire’s in the mall and buy her earrings and a matching necklace for her Easter basket. Now she’s 23 years old and here I am at Kate Spade dropping several hundred dollars on a necklace and earrings from a photo she emailed me.

I almost fell over. I had had nearly the same conversation with my best friend just minutes earlier.

Because all my guile when my girls were little has come back to bite me in the behind. I am still buying Spring things for Easter-- except my girls’ tastes have become much more refined and expensive. Old Navy, Claire’s and Disney movies no longer cut the mustard.

I should have bought them chocolate bunnies and marshmallow peeps when they were little—just like my mother did for my brother and me. Because even the dental bill from sugar encrusted decayed teeth would have been less costly than what I spend now.