You know what’s funny? All while my camera was being abused in some post office building somewhere, I was wringing my hands about yes, the cost of replacing it if the insurance didn’t come through (sometimes the post will just say, too bad, so sad, in our experience), but also (holy wow, this is a long sentence) how fabulous our Easter photos were and how I’d never have them again.
Hilarious. The Easter photos were terrible, but it’s the memories, right?
Fake smiles, all of them. And orange-toned thanks to the basement lighting. Oh well.
We went to church first, and then they hunted for candy and their baskets. That lazy, good for nothing Easter Bunny left all the plastic eggs she’s been saving over the years at home. So she just strewed candy about with the help from… erm, Mr. Easter Bunny, and he’s awful at hiding candy, just plunking them down in plain sight. I’m not saying Mr. and Mrs. Easter Bunny had a fight but there were words. Words over pastel wrapped chocolates.
Don’t tell grandma we stood on her couch like that.
All the chasing around photos were blurry, which I suppose is apt. We were in my in law’s basement and I was worrying about opened candy and chocolate smears on white carpeting. Next year? The Easter bunny is coming on Saturday, yo.
The baskets were dollar store, along with most of the stuff in them, but I supplemented that cheapskate Easter Bunny with goodies from our Usborne co-op. Woot, woot.
We didn’t even dye eggs since we were in Utah. I’m not sad about it, to tell you the truth. However, we are having a good time watching some of our chicken’s eggs incubate and hoping that our rooster knows what he’s doing (I’m really not so sure).
I don’t have the greatest candling light, but I’m trying. I think I can tell that about half of them are growing into baby chicks, while the other half remain a mysterious, speckled, cloudy enigma. And dudes, I can’t see through the green eggs at all. But can I tell you how badly I want a whole new little clutch of Araucana chicks? The one we have now (her name is The Bearded Lady) is such a sulky beast. She hates the rooster and spent months hiding from him and making a point of snubbing all of his advances. So really, no idea if he’s managed to fertilize any of her pretty green eggs. I guess we shall see.
p.s. Lest you think Easter was all about the Mr. and Mrs. arguing and worrying over chocolate smears (and also who got the last Reeses Peanut Butter Egg), we utilized some awesome Ensign resources and had a lovely family discussion about Christ’s sacrifice and resurrection. Lovely right? Though the family my 8 year old drew on this printable appears to be driving tanks and toting bows and arrows. I’m going to assume that is just his doodling and not a subtle message to buy more ice cream.