Miss A’s second Easter in 2006. Look at that face. I should have known that she’d be a future Easter basket trouble maker.
Miss A used the toilet this morning in our half bath and walked out with a chapter book I’d hidden, obviously very well, for Miss C’s Easter basket on Sunday. “Mommy, what is this?” she asked, waving the book at me.
You know the basket I’m talking about. THE Easter basket. As in from the Easter Bunny. So I’ll just be giving Miss C the book some other time.
I don’t know if Miss A also rummaged in the tote bag beneath it filled with Peeps and chocolate and jelly beans and other goodies intended for their Easter baskets. I asked her if she found anything else and she replied, “Um. No. Am I in trouble?”
My husband asked why in the world I didn’t hide it somewhere else, like the attic. Well let’s see for one thing it’s supposed to be 85 degrees today. Also, she never uses that bathroom.
I have yet to fill Easter eggs so I’m just hoping that she’ll be so excited when she sees her Easter Bunny loot Sunday morning that she won’t make the connection between the bagged candy she discovered and the candy from the Easter Bunny.
I also left two chocolate bunnies in my car this week intended for their Easter baskets and forgot about them until mid-day. By the time I went to rescue them and shove them in the refrigerator at work one of them melted into a blur of chocolatey goodness, all the carved out bunny features melted into a smooth blob of chocolate, kind of like bunny Botox gone frightfully wrong.
The following post was originally published in April 2007. So far it’s much funnier than anything Easter related that has transpired this week which can be summed up succinctly with EASTER BASKET FAIL.
Miss C and I went to our neighbor’s church Easter musical Sunday night. I realized pretty quickly that Miss C’s Bible story knowledge focuses on Noah, Moses, and the other usual Old Testament Bible characters and that we have not adequately covered the resurrection, which of course is a pretty big deal. Not to mention that Miss C most readily associates Easter with the hip hop white guy with pink ears, and I don’t mean K-Fed.
The hubby stayed at home with our little Mexican jumping bean Miss A. I knew this was the right decision when Miss C insisted on sitting right up in front at church and when I got home and the hubby told me I’d missed out on Miss A’s nuclear explode up-the-back diaper episode.
Miss C was very well behaved during the entire musical, which went on for nearly and hour and a half, and I reminded her that even though this was a church “play,” we needed to be quiet.
But she whispered (her “quiet” voice can be quite loud) about 500 questions during the musical.
Some of my favorites are:
Why is Jesus mad?
Why are they hurting Jesus?
Is Jesus dead?
Why is Jesus in that cave?
Does Jesus sit with the dead people in heaven?
And my favorite: Is Jesus naked?
Having an almost 5-year-old intently converse with me about the meaning of life and death, not to mention her reasoning that people must wear capes in order to fly up to heaven, is pretty darn cool. That and the fact that she refers to God as Mr. God.
It reminds me of this Bible verse: “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.”
That’s right. Do not hinder them. Even if they ask if Jesus is naked…in church.
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