You're supposed to be excited on Easter, what with the risen Christ, and all. I'm not. I was pretty happy this morning as Laila bounded into our bedroom, anticipating the thrill of searching for her basket. I was proud when she and I said a prayer thanking God for his son. I took great joy in watching my children eat chocolate carrots and jelly beans before breakfast. And I LOVED it when our families got together to take this picture.
It's the most awesome thing ever, right? We had to set the timer on the camera and hang it from the chandelier to get the shot. I was thinking of turning it into b&w and having someone brilliant hand all color the bracelets with Photoshop. (Bonnie?)
But, anyway, everyone's gone and now I'm all alone. My family took the kids to brunch with my aunts and uncles and grandfather. Mmm ... bacon and strawberries and french toast and hash browns. Scott's family is gathering for a delicious lunch. Even Scott is off enjoying himself at Menard's. And, I'm here. I'm about to watch The Break-Up while I have a bowl of popcorn and a diet coke, even though soda has been linked to pancreatic cancer. I like diet coke. Maybe later I'll do a puzzle.
It sounds like a nice relaxing day, doesn't it? But it's not a very good Easter.
So, why don't you tell me a story about something fun that happened during your Easter. I'll live vicariously through you.
Or, better yet ... tell me a story of something rotten that happened during your Easter and I'll laugh at your misfortune.
Maybe there was a family squabble? Maybe you accidentally dyed a raw egg and it broke and oozed all over someone's basket? Oooh, or maybe someone choked on a jello egg? (That happened in my family, once.)
10 comments:
There were no hashbrowns and it was so loud at the University Club that it was not possible to have a conversation. There was no Easter egg hunt and your daughter was NOT PLEASED about it. There was booze, but now I have a headache and heartburn. Happy Easter.
I cheaped out the egg hunt and bought plastic eggs from the dollar store, and the squirrels in our yard ATE THROUGH them. In case you are wondering, squirrels like whopper malted milk ball eggs, but they do not care for life saver gummy bunnies (and I can't say I blame them, really.) Don't believe me? I'm going to take a picture for the blog.
xo
Heather
My favorites were Holy Saturday when I was able to have breakfast with Liz, Mags, Pete and Nick. Dad and Scott were at the egg hunt with La and O.
And in the car coming home from brunch when Laila was ecstatic that Owie ate a Peanut butter egg because "Mommy said he could have peanut butter because he is almost 3 and if Mommy says you can eat something then you can."
Owen had very reluctantly taken a look and then a bite while mumbling "I'm not 3 yet..."But then he really liked it and Laila was thrilled.
I worked. But I helped sick people hopefully get the meds that will make them better.
I worshiped at the altar of sugar and chocolate since I had given it up for Lent. Three doughnuts, a piece of cake and a piece of tiramisu later, I don't feel so good and that does not bode well for getting all of my homework done.
And I LOVE your idea for the photo!
After my nap, I am old you know, Laila and I planted some peas and partridge peas in the garden. Actually, I prepared the bed and Laila did the planting. What a nice thing to do on an Easter Sunday.
I didn't get to drink, I didn't get to take a nap, my big ol' pregnant butt chased the kids around on a swing set for 45 minutes while my husband sanded the deck, but I did get to eat spaghetti for dinner. Now, I have heartburn and plan to eat ice cream after Sam finally goes to bed. Feel better, yet? Miss you. Love, A
So I think I was about 5 years old, (when I was a happy only-child and spoiled rotten until those darn brothers came along) we went to grandma's for the easter egg hunt at her house. That Easter Bunny was clever! I found all of the baskets and all of the multi-colored eggs all by myself...minus one...we searched and searched but could not find that last darn egg. In fact, it was hidden so well, the only way grandma found it was weeks later using her nose. It eventually spoiled to the point where it stunk to high heaven (no pun intended) and grandma found the final egg. From that point on, the Easter Bunny never did hide the eggs that well again. That or I became that much more of a pro to find them all. Oh well...at least it wasn't at our house!
Take care,
Jen
Hmmm a funny & sad story: Ok my 22 year old she informed me that she still needs an Easter basket! So I had the Easter bunny deliver one for her and her little brother (who happens to be 18). In the Easter basket was the much awaited Barbie kite - which I have been informed the Easter bunny NEVER forgets! So the poor Easter bunny searches for one if Target is out! Of course they brought their kites to my inlaws and flew them....then my poor little girl had hers get stuck in a tree! This seems to happen each and every year....poor little girl!
Emma has strep, which I'm told rarely happens at this age (28 months), so Chad and she stayed home while Carter and I trekked to Mankato so as not to offend my mom by not showing up.
Carter was scared of everyone (which offended my mom) and two of my brothers did not eat the feast which my mom prepared (one is a vegetarian and one was ill). This also offended my mother.
Needless to say, she will never be happy, so why do I bother.
THE END
My 8 year old Dean cried through his entire egg coloring session because he "just didn't know what to do" to save his beloved blue cracked easter egg named "Crackie" forever and ever. It was fun.
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