Children happily messing up “tidying” the toy room when Godzilla locates a pair of rabbit ears headband thing that I insist on purchasing for all my children each Easter and forcing them to wear, so that I may take some “cute” photos of them wandering around in their jarmies in the cold, dew-ridden grass on Easter Sunday morning and locating the chocolate I distribute around the back yard in the early hours and that the cats haven’t yet attempted to eat.
Godzilla dons said ears and informs me he is “a rabbit”.
He then helps himself to a carrot for lunch as “rabbits eat carrots” and appears thrilled that I do not protest. In reality, I’m most relieved I only have to make two lunches and not endure protestations pertaining to the lunch I have made on, based entirely on the principles that a) it is what I made, therefore he cannot eat it and b) his brother said that what he wanted, therefore he must argue with selection and demand something else in whiney voice.
The highlight was him bouncing up the street, rabbit ears on and mouth surrounded by orange colouring, in order to purchase provisions for our impending familiy holiday.