So, apparently, my blog is becoming like that uncle everyone’s got who never wants to come to church; I blog at Christmas and Easter, and maybe a couple more times a year, but only if people prod me. It’s not that Uncle Vern and I want to shirk our responsibilities; it’s just that we’re so tremendously preoccupied with Sunday football … and by “Sunday football” I mean sorting piles of tiny tighty-whities while snarfing down chocolate chips from the bag and mitigating screaming bouts of Nerf gun warfare, while at the same time scrubbing grody dishes … but every day.
Liam documents our egg coloring by photographing our work with his DS camera.
However, I DID manage to get the camera out this weekend and take some pictures of the boys making their holiday preparations for the Easter bunny, and that was fun. They didn’t want to wait one moment longer than they had to to get started coloring those eggs, so I gathered up all our coloring supplies while the boys were munching on breakfast.
And because I must have been suffering from some sort of acute, judgment-battering brain aneurism, I left the little bottles of food coloring right in front of Sean and then left the room to procure a couple drying racks. I returned to the kitchen to find that Sean had dumped several colors of dye into his oatmeal. His bowl AND his mouth were a nauseating crime scene of clashing, oat-speckled colors, and I declared breakfast over before his body could absorb enough color to tint his skin.
I should have taken the picture before I flipped out and had him go wash out his mouth. It was pretty horrifying at first.. More like this …
We managed to get our eggs colored without further incident, and the boys were excited to leave their treat for the Easter bunny – a little pile of gummy carrots and two actual carrots. (And, yes, you can buy gummy carrots. They’re delicious.) The bunny reciprocated well, and the boys were thrilled with their Easter baskets.
The day had gone so well, and spirits were high, so I thought I would give the boys a laugh by showing them some of those creepy-looking Easter bunny costumes people wore in the fifties. So, I called Liam over to the computer, put Sean on my lap, and typed “scary Easter bunny” into my search engine. Here’s a tip: Do not EVER gather your children and type “scary Easter bunny” into any device! There was screaming and running and hiding under the computer desk, because apparently there are some really disturbed, undoubtedly hell-bound costume crafters in the world, and they’ve all got pictures on the internet.
It’s difficult to say whether it was the pictures of the freakish costumes or the one of the dog chewing the actual bunny head that was the true horror of the day. But it just goes to show, when the children have had a lovely day at church and are gleefully munching their heaping kilos of sugar, and all is well with the world … just leave it alone. That final log you want to throw onto the happiness fire might just be used to bludgeon a bunny.
Happy Easter, everyone!