Ummmm....I might have overreacted tonight.
I might have regressed to my 7 year old little sister self.
I might have had a massive tantrum that made my eldest son cry.
Yeah. Once a little sister, always a little sister.
~~~~~
Let me explain. When I was a kid, my brother used to terrorize me by messing with my imagination. We would be swimming at a pool and he'd take me down to the deep end and then suddenly yell "SHARK!" and swim away from me as fast as he could, leaving me hyperventilating in the deep end. Or he would tell me that the bad guys from movies we'd watched were hiding from me in my closet. To this day, I can't sleep with any closet doors open. In case evil is lurking and watching.
So today, Elly began expressing her fears relating to the Easter bunny ("I nuh-vuss, mummy"). Apparently the Easter bunny had visited her school last night and left treats for all the kids in her class. The thought that some ninja nighttime rodent was sneaking around her school totally freaked my girl out. The teachers said she was incredibly jumpy and looking behind her constantly. This Easter Bunny dude is clearly very sketchy in Elly's mind and she did not want him popping out and surprising her, no matter how many delicious treats he might have with him.
All the way home, Elly wanted to know where the bunny was, if it was at our house and where he would be next. She crept into the house, bug-eyed and twitchy. I had to hold her hand and show her there were no rabbits lurking. We went to volunteer at the boys' school in the afternoon and she refused to sit with her back to the door in case he came through. I tried to tell her he wasn't coming anywhere near our house, that he was a shy guy and only came when no people were around but nothing doing. Freaky chocolate carrying bunnies! You've traumatized my baby!
Anyway....this continued on and off all day. We had many discussions about said rabbit's whereabouts. Finally it was time to tidy up toys and get ready for bed. I asked Elly to carry her bag of toys to the basement and she balked. I mean, she generally does that anyway when it comes to cleaning, but tonight she flat out refused. "Da Eastuh Bunny...." she muttered.
"Boys, could you please take your sister down the stairs? She's frightened that the Easter Bunny might be down there, but of course he's not. Go down with her please and hold her hand," I said.
So the three of them started down the stairs. "Come ON, El," Owen muttered. "Or the Easter Bunny is going to get you." Cue whimpering.
"NO! We do NOT say that!" I yelled from the other room. "Elliot, you're fine. The Easter Bunny IS NOT going to get you and he's not downstairs. Its fine. Boys, enough. Help her down the stairs already!" Clearly I should have gone down myself. When will I ever learn that delegating does not work well for me?
They get a bit further down the stairs and then suddenly I hear William shout "RUN!" and poor Elly's terrified screams as those little buggers abandon her down at the bottom of the stairs. As I race down screaming at them to stay with her, she stumbles and trips and screams her way up to them. You should have seen her little face. She was so pale and she was actually shaking.
I took one look at her and all those times David scared the pants off of me came flooding back. And, well, I just completely lost it. I yelled at William, let me tell you. I really gave it to him. I told him what an awful trick that was to play on someone and I said it had been his job to keep her safe and he had failed miserably. I said, gulp, that he was behaving like a "horrible brother". And he cried. I made him cry. "You hurt my feelings!" he yelled back at me.
Oh dear. Deep breaths everyone.
So we went upstairs and sat in Elly's room and I apologised for making him cry, but I also explained why I was upset. How Uncle David used to play that kind of game with me and how much it always scared me. How it wasn't nice to run away from someone who was trusting you to keep them safe. And that that was their job as big brothers, to keep their one and only sister safe. Hugs all round, bedtime stories, cuddles and then lights out.
But as I kissed Elly goodnight, she said in a little voice. "I don't yike da Eastuh Bunny, mumma". And I sighed, paused and said, "Honey? Can I tell you something? He's not real. Its the mummies and daddies who put the chocolate out for the kids. Okay? So don't worry, sweetie. There's no bunny. Okay?"
"Its just da mummies and daddies?"
'Yes, lovely. Goodnight."
Sigh from the bed. "Night, mumma"
I have no idea how I'll explain that there's no such thing as the Easter Bunny to the boys tomorrow, but I figure I'll deal with that rabbit when we get to it.
~~~~~
I should now add that I love my big brother dearly and despite going through a "Scare Sister Shitless" phase, he quickly grew out of it, we moved on and he took on the role of Bodyguard and Defender of Sister with great gusto. I'll never forget the day that 14 year old me got spat on by a bunch of stupid boys at a bus stop and when I came home in tears, Dave tore out of the house and drove down there to pulverise them to smithereens. Luckily for those jerks, he didn't find them.
I'm not entirely sure how many boys from his school heard his 'Touch my sister and you die" speech, but I'd like to think it explains why I didn't date until my late teens (and had absolutely nothing to do with my braces, my hair or my ridiculously awkward self).
And I'm pretty sure that if there ever really WAS a shark in the pool or a bishop in my closet (you know, the evil bishop of Aquila from Ladyhawke, Oscar-nominated movie from 1985 that scared me silly? No? Oh. Maybe it was just me then), David would have pulverized them to smithereens too.
