First, that person formally known as Grandpop is now Peepop. Despite my best efforts, this is the name Billy has settled on. Peepop it is.
We knew this day would come. It was inevitable. The day when Billy would ask where Peepop's hair went.
"The Easter Bunny ate my hair," Peepop laughed.
Billy was very concerned. I could see his little toddler mind processing this. First, the Easter Bunny will bring candy, next the Easter Bunny will eat all of his hair and then disappear into thin air leaving me with a boon of chocolate and a bald spot. Way to combine Halloween with Easter, Peepop, with a mutant bunny that goes around eating hair off of unsuspecting heads.
"Um, actually, Buster ate his hair!" I piped in. Buster is Peepop's dog. Seemed a likely choice. He's been known to eat a shoe or twenty.
There was a quick exchange of glances before Peepop caught on. "Oh, yeah, Buster ate my hair!"
Better than warding off a horrible hair-eating hare with magical powers.
Now we only have to worry about locking Buster up at bedtime when Billy sleeps over at Peepop's.