Don't Tell Me I'm Too Old!

Easter, like most holidays is most commonly escalated around the enthusiasm of small children. Kids get to murder chocolate bunnies with their mouths. Kids get to wake up Sunday morning to baskets filled with useless annoying green stuff “Easter grass” and candy. Kids get giant stuffed bunnies to accompany them on their egg quests. Kids get special bunny pancake breakfasts with life-saver eyes and candy corn noses. Kids get to run outside and push each other down while hunting for those plastic eggs I love so much. Yes, kids get all the glory. Kids…and Liz.

I am the proud owner partner of this shiny new toy I commonly refer to as my husband. He is the BEST Easter bunny on the block, correction; world. I think it’s pretty clear I have a slight obsession with reclaiming my childhood with every holiday, and Easter is no exception. I made my demands preferences known with egg hunts and SOLID chocolate bunnies. Has this kid ever let me down? I think not. Sunday morning I had eggs galore to find, and a hidden message to decode that lead me to my hidden basket and goodies (giant stuffed rabbit and FOUR solid chocolate bunnies included). Breakfast, of course, was complete with the bunny pancakes. This is no mature adult old he’s dealing with. Brent is in for a lifetime of immaturity and frantic holiday mania.

::: Bunny pancake disclaimer: As I handed Brent his pancake a la bunny, I start hearing cries of help coming from the plate. “Nooo I can’t hear! Not my eyes! You’re killing me!! I can’t breathe!!!!!” Yes, my husband was expressively narrating the asphyxiation of his breakfast. Death was ruled murder by digestion. Poor thing never had a chance. ::: …and here I thought was the one with maturity issues.

 Though my husband has become accustomed to my alternative lifestyle as a 7 year old, the Bridger Valley has not. They apparently don’t realize the importance of the phrase “you’re never too old for whatever”.  Every year, the town puts on a huge egg hunt at the Fort. They hide over 4,000 eggs, and divide the areas into age groups. As little Grace and I walked up to the map to locate our appropriate hunting grounds, I noticed they were missing the 20+ section. Surely, there must have been some mistake, so I opted to join in on the 6-7 age group instead. I’m faster and could get more eggs that way.  Less competition. Kidding. (No, really, I am kidding…but I wouldn’t put it entirely past me.) Instead I opted for the photographer position and took pictures of Faith and Grace as they stole all my fun. (You’re wasting my fun time!!!)<---- You’re welcome, Trista.

The people that can actually take credit for Grace and Faith, Trista and Dale.

Faith, Christopher, Jason (and his new hair do) and Timmy posing with a less than desirable portrayal of the Easter Bunny. (Somewhere in the E.B. Code of Ethics it should state you shouldn't have chew tobacco covered teeth while interacting with small children. Just sayin')

Easter night was spent at the grandparents’ house, as we compared the smells of people vs. brown or white chicken eggs. Ashley learned a lot about chickens and their lack of respect for color coding their offspring, and possibly a thing or two about super glue not being all that super when it comes to shoe repair. Grandpa learned that when grandma say to dispose of “A” cat, she doesn’t mean all of them. I assume he will also be learning how uncomfortable his couches are to sleep on.  We sat around embarrassing the crap out of and reminiscing of Clark childhood (and some adult) mishaps, as grandpa sat in the corner taking it all in, learning a little more than he probably wanted to. 

•        Disclaimer #2: I really missed my Momma, Pop and Bear on Easter. Brought back so many childhood memories. Love you guys!

And now I feel as though I have properly portrayed Easter as everything it shouldn’t be. Mission failed. So I’ll redeem myself by telling you how beautiful the sermon was in church. I had the opportunity to sing a ‘special’, a quartet with three other lovely ladies with voices of angels. We sang “That Old Rugged Cross”.  So moving. So beautiful.  God is good, and thank you Jesus. 

The End.