Easter is a curious holiday.
With Christmas you've had such a blending of the secular and the religious, the pagan and the christian traditions that it's hard to tell what came from where. Christmas is a tree which came from barbarian tradition while the lights on a tree were started by Martin Luther.
But Easter is split almost right down the middle. On one hand you wake up early to find colored eggs and a woven basket hidden by a small rabbit, maybe throw in a few storks and you have about as many euphemisms for fertility as you can get in without having the pearl clutchers after you.
And once the basket's found, the dyed eggs back in their carton (after you spend an hour finding that last one your Mom swears she put in the tree stump) you slip into a frilly dress and are carted off to church where you sit for the next hour trying to jam 30 people to a pew.
As one ages and no longer has a parent to hide eggs for you, you care less and less about all the fertility stuff for Easter (I did think of a way you could hide eggs for yourself to find, it'd involve about a gallon of wild turkey; however). Inevitably Easter either means less and less to you if you are not so religious.
As for my husband and I, we spent the night before at my parents house where Essie was happier than a kindergarten class that got into the glitter. She had her two brothers and her mother to play with incessantly while we camped out on the couch and cracked wise for the next 6 hours at the whitest Egyptians this side of Liz Taylor (why didn't Moses show up with say a barreta instead of his staff? It would have been much more fitting for Heston).
The problem arouse when it was time for sleep, our puppy doesn't know the meaning of the word "No," "Stop" or "Get your ass to bed!" She wanted to keep playing and playing and playing and only went down for maybe 2 hours the entire night.
Come morning everyone was dragging tail, especially Es who played so hard she managed to strain her tail. It still hangs limply behind her.
We packed in early to get home so our puppy would leave her siblings alone so they could sleep and to force her on a road to recovery (where she pretty much slept for 9 hours straight).
And that was our exciting Easter. I know, it's enough to rival the Holy Week of the Vatican.
It did give my husband and I lots of time to talk about random things in the car and I think I've decided what I want put on my tombstone (the non cardboard crust kind).