(scene opens in dim basement, children eating candy before the tv)
Husband: What are you eating?
Alpha: (mumbling) Nothing.
Husband: (sees open bag on the bar) Did you guys get into mom’s stash of Skittles?!
Alpha: It’s Beta’s fault. But he only took a handful and his hands are small.
Beta: (holds up hands, wiggles fingers) It’s true. See?
Gamma: Mine are smaller.
(scene opens in gloomy dining room, dusted with Easter grass)
Beta: Where are all the eggs?
Me: I don’t know. You’ll have to look.
Beta: (looks out window, sees 100 plastic eggs on the yard) Oh my god.
Alpha: (turns to look) Dear lord.
Me: (sips coffee, smug)
Beta: How did our eggs get outside?!
Me: I don’t know.
Alpha: That’s never happened before. Why didn’t the Easter Bunny come inside?
Me: Dunno. Maybe the door was locked and he couldn’t get in.
Beta: Then where are our eggs if he couldn’t get the house?
Alpha: And where did he get all those eggs if he couldn’t get ours?
Me: He’s the Easter Bunny. He’s magic. Maybe he pooped them out.
Alpha: Well, I’m not touching them.