Happy Easter

While the weather maybe cold and gray, I'm excited about the Easter weekend. I was remembering how we celebrated the holiday as kids. We usually spent it with Momma T's side of the family.

In the morning there would be three Easter Baskets lined up on the hearth, each with one large chocolate rabbit nestled in that iconic florescent plastic grass, sprinkled with jelly beans and other various candies. There might also be some peeps and a Cadbury egg in there too.

We'd get ready for church, fighting the whole way with Momma T. about the outfit she pick out for us (OK, maybe that was just me. If you saw the pictures, you'd know why I was protesting). There would always be a picture taken in the backyard of us three girls together to be sent to family members afar. Then off to church where the thought of all that candy waiting at home would make us act like Satan's children during the longest Mass EVER. 

One home we'd dash through the door to do a quick inventory on our Easter baskets, making sure none of that candy had gone missing. We'd dig into some of the candy before we could be told no. If we were having everyone come to our house, we would then be permitted a reprieve from the itchy, binding dress clothes.

The family then all came together for an early dinner. The parents hid the eggs. And we'd all be waiting patiently for the figurative horn to blow, unleashing me, my sisters and my cousins to scatter through the yard. We would diligently search for each of the hard boiled eggs that we so carefully decorated earlier in the week. We learned at a young age that the eggs that could be easily located were for the "young kids". We were smarter than those babies anyways, right?. A cry for attention would arise each time an egg was discovered, lauding ourselves for finding a well hidden egg (OK, probably only me again).

I did a quick survey at work today to see if others had the same tradition. Turns out most other families hid the plastic eggs full of candy or coins. That seems like less of an adventure to me. It would be OK if not all the plastic eggs were discovered. Now the hard boiled eggs, you HAD to find all of those or risk a smell come summer that left you running.

Because Momma T and Padre might have not been paying attention to where they hid all these eggs, they used the egg crates to keep track of the count. There would usually be one spot left in that cardboard crate that would send the clan clamoring back into the yard, searching for the last elusive egg. 

After that we'd all keep ourselves busy, probably eating candy and driving our parents crazy as they attempted to get dinner on the table, ultimately celebrating the way our family always does - over food.

We had some great Easters growing up. What was your Easter like as a kid?