It's 8:30 on Easter morning. My husband has gone to "work" at the golf course (10 hours a week so he can have free golf) and I am contemplating the best time to start cooking. There is no sense of a holiday in the house. No basket, no eggs, and no new Spring clothes that are way too lightweight to wear because the weather isn't quite Spring-like. The dinner I'm planning isn't ham (yuck) or lamb or even a turkey. We're doing ribs and not calling them Easter Dinner.
I've never liked Easter.It's boring. I didn't even like it when I was little. It always meant a Toni Home Permanent which gave me frizzball hair and an ugly dress that my Grandmother would insist was beautiful. I don't mean to be disrespectful of the holiday (yes I do)., It's fine if you're into the whole resurrection thing (but I have my doubts). For me the worst part of today is to wake up and realize I HAVE no chocolate bunny tails and ears to nibble on. That's what it used to be for me - that's what I looked forward to....biting the ears off my son's chocolate bunnies - the ones the Easter Bunny would bring even though my son wasn't particularly fond of chocolate. Over the years he would just hand them over while I, with telltale chocolate stuck in the corner of my lips from the ones that never quite made it to the basket, would smile and say "Are you sure?" while greedily snatching them from his little hands. Burp.
When my son was little my husband (#2) and I would hide eggs all over the house. On Easter morning (before the Grandparents descended with 40 more pounds of candy) we would watch as he collected each egg in the off chance that one of these eggs would lead him to something worthwhile - like a toy. And each year we got back fewer eggs than we hid. Months later I would find a purple or blue egg behind a dresser or under the couch or inside a vase on top of a table....and more than once I would find these missing eggs while looking for the source of a funky odor in the room. It took a few years for us to get smart enough to make a list of where the eggs were hidden. Some people are slow learners.
Then there were the Easter Brunches at local hotels or restaurants. We would pile into the car (my son, husband and my in-laws) and drive to an over-priced buffet where we had been lucky enough to snag a reservation. Women would arrive, fresh from church, dressed in amazing outfits topped with large flowery hats. I would always feel under dressed in my jeans (clean) and tee shirt. (I never changed the way I dressed for this occasion) There was never an Easter brunch where we didn't marvel at the amount of food our kid could eat and still move. I would keep a close eye on my mother in law who, if we didn't monitor her, would find something to tuck away in her purse (not to eat but to use in a craft of some sort some day). And then it would be over.
This year it's just us. Me, Bob and Charlie (my 2nd husband, son's Dad etc) and our dogs. My son recently moved out and does not talk to me (so he won't be stopping by any time soon). My niece is at her boyfriend's parents'. My nephew decided to enjoy the day alone in Chicago. ( I suggested he go to Millenium Park and stand near the Jelly Bean...sort of a tribute to Easter) I don't really have to cook but I have a craving for sweet, sticky ribs. Charlie will bring one of his out of control dogs and we will spend the day yelling "NO!" at this poor confused canine. And Charlie will also bring the one thing that's missing...a chocolate bunny. He always brings a chocolate bunny. (That's probably why I invite him.)
Happy Easter.
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