Hippitus Hoppitus

So Easter has once again come and gone. And once again my family has found new and exciting ways to celebrate the resurrection of Jesus. You know, with three-legged races and Easter muggings. Yeah. That's how we roll.

So, I went down to my parents' house on Good Friday with the intention of making it home in time to go to service and watch Jo do her altar serving thang. Mistake #1. I will never ever again in the course of my time on this earth attend the Good Friday service again. I've had times where I haven't paid attention in church. I've never had a time where I prayed for mass to end so I could go drink heavily. Holy crap that is a long and ridiculous service. We must have kneeled 420 times. We had to listen to the worst choir in the world sing a capella. My father (genius) stepped out of the service about 20 minutes into it and went to sit in the car. Apparently he "wasn't feeling well." Dude, no one was feeling well at the one hour mark. About ten minutes after Dad left, Mom went "to go check on him" adding "suckas!" on her way out. The girls and I were in the service for another hour. By the time it was over, I just didn't want to feel anymore. So, I went bowling with Bear and a couple of her friends. And I drank. And it was good.

The next night it was time to start the Easter celebration. Egg-dying babay. I'm usually not big on artsy-craftsy things. Because I suck at them. And because art is Jessica's job. But Jessica wasn't home, so we did our best. Meet our tribe of eggs. Including Bob Marley. And Larry.The next day my mother tried to eat Larry at breakfast. So I was forced to wear him in a holster around my neck. The Easter bunny brought everyone baskets (he also brought me a ring-pop), and it was time for the Easter egg hunt. Last year my father tied our legs together and made us hop around our enormous yard in the desperate search for chocolatey goodness. This year, Dad decided to tie our legs to one another. I have no idea why every Easter egg hunt is bondage-themed at my house, but it's a good time nonetheless. So, Dad tied us together for the hunt. Jess and Jen, Bear and I, and Mom and Jo.

My father had told me before the hunt that the best eggs were in the front yard. So Bear and I struck out toward the front. Every egg we picked up was empty. We were picking up the stupid empty eggs when we noticed Jess and Jen were also in the front, picking up eggs that probably weren't empty. We thought it best to slow them down. So, we started throwing the eggs back in the yard. And then we started finding eggs filled with stuff, emptied the eggs into our bag, and then threw them back into the yard empty. This made the hunt a lot more amusing. We ended up with quite a few eggs, and some bruised legs. We went to sort through the booty and noticed Mom and Jo wandering around the yard with a bag bulging with eggs. The obvious solution to this disparity? Easter mugging. We ran up behind Mom and Jo, pushed them down a hill, and stole their bag of eggs. Of course, stopping to photograph my Mom dragging poor little Jo down the hill.

The mugging was successful, but there was a casualty. My mother crushed poor Larry. RIP.
















In the end, we pooled the Easter candy. And I stole the household's supply of Reese's Peanut Butter Eggs. Because they are the best Easter candy. Ever. We went to Easter mass (which wasn't anywhere near as unbearable as the Good Friday non-mass) and I came back to Birmingham Sunday night. And ate peanut butter eggs. And it was goooood. :) I love Easter.