Even though I wouldn't consider myself a very religious person, I love holidays. Admittedly, I had to ask Mike to clarify the whole meaning of Easter for me yesterday. A quick trip to Wikipedia cleared things up, but it got me thinking about celebrations and holidays and why we do things like turn our fingers green trying to dye hard-boiled eggs and consume our weight in marshmallows shaped like little birds.
I had a roommate in college who tried to tell me that I shouldn't be allowed to celebrate Christmas because I didn't really understand the real point of the day. And while it's true that my family never went to church and I almost flunked the New Testament course I took in college, that comment totally pissed me off. Because for me, even though holidays might not be about the birth of Baby Jesus, they sure as heck are about being with family and friends and taking some time to carry on traditions and have a little fun. Especially now that I'm a mama, and can sneak out into the yard to hide brightly colored eggs or stuff Christmas stocking with goodies, I totally understand the true point of holidays, probably more than ever.
Yesterday was no different. We joined my parents, my aunts, and my grandma for a brunch that has been a tradition for as long as I can remember. Eggs Benedict, cheesy potatoes, a mimosa or two, and lots and lots of Peeps. Throw in an Easter basket for my little bunny, and you've got yourself a mighty fine holiday.
|The best part was that we kept stealing the eggs from her basket and re-hiding them.|
|The teacher in me just cannot resist...|