the line between real and pretend...

...is very, very blurry for an 18 month-old.

We went to an Easter egg hunt this past weekend, and now have empty plastic eggs all around the house that have been great (temporary) entertainment. Today, the Mommy Magic Show was the entertainment of choice, as with just a mere shake or blow, my carefully honed slight of hand skills vaporized and re-materialized the much loved plastic orbs (trust me, it REALLY doesn't take much to fool a 2-yr-old and two 1 yr-olds). After the beginning basics of disappearance and reappearance in unexpected places received enthusiastic acclaim, I moved on to the truly impressive. I "swallowed" one of the eggs, complete with all the theatrics appropriate to swallowing such a large item, and then opened my mouth and asked Caleb, the closest member of my rapt audience, "is it gone?" He truly inspected my empty mouth, more carefully than I expected, and responded with an awe-struck, whispered "yeah." He WHISPERED it, and the look on his face was priceless... a mixture of concern and dismay and wonder. As far as he was concerned, I REALLY swallowed that little yellow egg. Perhaps I could make a career of this?

At this point, it occurred to me that if it seemed that real to them, I really didn't want them to imitate this portion of the afternoon's entertainment. So, ever the quick-thinking mommy-magician, I started feeling "sick." "Oh dear, boys, this was a mistake. You really shouldn't eat plastic eggs, it will make you feel very yucky." I followed that with my best little-boy pleasing wind-up, at which point poor little Caleb SCREAMED with pure terror as it was "coming up" - a long, horrified "no!!!" that dissolved into gut-wrenching sobs and tears. I don't know what he thought was going to happen, but I think perhaps it involved my death. No exaggeration, the poor kid was traumatized.

Of course, I felt horrible, and pulled him close and reassured him that Mommy was ok, not really sick, just pretending, here is the egg, everything is fine, it's ok, etc, etc, etc. He STILL clung to me, and his panicked breathing didn't slow for a full two minutes.

And then he said...

"Again!"