>At some point last week, I was instant messaging Dave, and I said, “Do you really think we’ll be able to get up, find Easter baskets, have an Easter egg hunt, make it to church by 9:00 am, then head straight to Eldora for the last day of the season, and still make it to dinner at our friends by 5:00?” He said, “Sounds great!”
And that was before the impromptu egg dying, card playing, movie watching marathon that resulted in Dave having to stay up until midnight making cauliflower pie on Holy Saturday.
I can’t even remember which night we were up with Jack between 4 and 5:30 and which night Luke’s alarm woke me up at 3:30 am, after it had been going off for an hour. Long story short, everyone was tired on Sunday morning, and I let Dave stay in bed while the boys looked for their baskets. With the combination of staying up too late and having candy for breakfast it came as no surprise that we went from Easter morning joy, to finding the baskets, eating breakfast, playing, and finally, sobbing in less than 50 minutes. Right on schedule.
Luke found Jack’s basket right away but couldn’t find his own basket. Jack found my basket right away and had no desire to look for his own. Why bother looking for your own basket, when you can just climb on top of the table and eat Mama’s candy? (The Easter Bunny does not hide my basket.)
In this video, I learn that Jack can say chocolate. (Dave told the daycare that Jack likes jelly beans, which gave all the other parents the chance to say that their children have never had jelly beans. Bad Dave!)
Once Jack finally found his basket, he wasted no time stuffing his little chipmonk cheeks with candy:
It was hard, believe me, to come up with the perfect outfit that would transition from Easter Sunday mass to skiing to dinner with friends. Dave did well with long underwear under his nice jeans. Exchange the jeans for snow pants and voila!
I planned to pull on my fleece pants under my skirt and exchange my sweater for a fleece top. But I forgot my clothes and had to just go with just tights under my ski pants and my Easter sweater. No photos, but brrr.
Dinner was delicious. Dessert… well that’s a story for another day.