We once again broke bread with our neighbors, family and beloved friends.
We went to church all dressed up and the kids quietly sat through mass, save for the moment I turned around and Luke (he is going to kill me for telling this someday) was sprawled out on the pew with his hands in his pants which resulted in a quick trip to the potty.
We left carrots on the porch for the Easter bunny and in the morning we found that he had chewed them up!
We hunted for 16 Easter eggs hidden around Grandma's house.
We ate a savory meal, discussing small town gossip and the like.
We blew bubbles on Grandma's porch and watched the red-breasted robins dart about the yard and stood in awe as the house across the street had dirt dumped on their front lawn. Seriously. Luke was in heaven. It's the little things after all.
I tried to explain why we celebrate Easter and got as far as, "Jesus rose from the..." and decided we have a few more years before we need to venture there.
It was renewing and sweet to meld the old traditions of my childhood with the ones we are creating for our children, dump trucks and all.
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