On Good Friday, our 12-year-old neighbor asked Sophie, “Are you excited for what will be in your Easter Basket?”
“Oh, I already have an Easter basket,” Sophie answered nonchalantly, with uncharacteristic un-consumerism. She’s right: we just keep re-using the same felt basket we bought at Target’s dollar-bin a few years ago. I could claim that this is due to my environmentalism, but it’s really because I am cheap and lazy. We just keep taking our one Easter basket to every Easter-egg hunt: the ones at playgroup, the ones at school, and the many impromptu ones we have around the house during the month of April and after.
“I guess you guys don’t really celebrate Easter,” my neighbor said, attempting to be respectful. And I realized that just because we died three-dozen eggs last week and have been hunting for plastic eggs almost every other day this month, we probably should plan something special for Easter Sunday itself.
Sheesh, these mom-duties never end. Sophie’s preschool declares that one of its goals is to “create memories with holiday celebrations,” and I realized when my sweet neighbor asked about celebrating Easter, that this is a mom’s job too. Oops.
I had forgotten to really shop for Easter, until it was too late. It was already Friday evening when my neighbor observed that we don’t really celebrate Easter. Saturday, Ben was off on a 60-mile mountain-bike-ride, followed by a small dinner-party at our house. I was with Sophie all day so there was no chance to get her a chocolate bunny in secret.
Thankfully, at the top of the linen closet, wedged between spare pillows, was a cute little lady-bug costume that I bought on sale last week, in preparation for her birthday next month. At the top of the snack-cabinet are the pink M&Ms left over from Valentine’s Day that she doesn’t really care about, and some other chocolates that have been languishing. M&Ms don’t go bad, do they? I love it when my haphazardly-shelved odds-and-ends make up for my disorganization and nonconsumerism. I put the candy in each of the plastic eggs that she has been bringing home from school events (that I can’t bear to throw out, because they’re not recyclable, so I found I had 18 of those), along with some other things that she considers treats: band-aids, pencil-erasers… Too bad I was out of stickers. I put the ladybug costume in her basket itself.
She woke up at 5 am, delightedly found all her eggs, and hasn’t taken off that ladybug costume since. She made her dad pretend to be a butterfly all morning, because apparently ladybugs are good friends with butterflies.
We dipped strawberries in homemade whipped cream for breakfast (along with pancakes and bacon). We’re going to dip more strawberries in chocolate fondue for lunch (along with a roast, maybe, if anyone’s hungry enough for that). And thus we have pulled together a decent Easter, from what happened to be already in the house.