Happy Easter, y'all.
I know I should be posting some beautiful youtube video of a song about Jesus, or talking about his resurrection and such today, because that's what Easter is all about. But today, instead, I'm going to tell you about why I am not necessarily a fan of Easter as a holiday. I love what it represents and try to acknowledge Jesus' resurrection and love every day of the year, but round about my family, Easter is...
Well, it's just exhausting.
See, it's one of the two high holy holidays of our dear Baptist religion, which means it's one of the two days in which my parents come to church. Which is stressful and exhausting in and of itself. We then go home to a big meal afterwards, and try to act like a normal, Rockwall-esque family.
You see why I typically need wine afterwards. This year was no exception.
It would also not be in my family's prerogative to come to church in less than three cars, even though there are only four of us. My sister decided to come to the service I attend (aka...the service that started later) and sat by me. That was an issue in and of itself, but I'll spare you.Instead I will tell you that when I took out my gum package and offered her a piece, she said thank you and as I was putting a piece in my mouth, she looked at me and said "No smacking."
Oh. There will be smacking. There will be smacking alright. There will be smacking of your forehead into the pew in front of you. She is very lucky this all happened in the middle of the sermon, and that today was Easter, because those are about the only two reasons that I did not take her by her long hair and ram her head into the pew in front of us, all the while saying "Oh wait... you meant smacking my gum? Sorry. Misunderstood." I think if I had done that in real life (instead of just in my head), our dear pastor would have understood once I actually told him the circumstances.
In any event, we went home and had a ridiculous lunch, which my sister literally threw an elbow to get to. She had already downed two rolls and my dad had a piece of ham in his mouth, when my mother finally sat down to the table. (I had not touched my food until everyone was at the table, because I was raised right.) My mother insisted on saying grace, and since I'm the only one at our house that goes to church more than twice a year, I was nominated. I was also interrupted in the middle of it by The Sister fussing at my dog for licking her leg. So my grace included the words "Eeewww. Stop licking me! Stop licking me!" and also the words "DO YOU MIND?! I AM TALKING TO JESUS!"
And finally, lest my Easter experience be complete, I ran to the 7-11 on the way home from the family time circus because I had given up soda (well, sort of...) for Lent, and Easter Sunday means "Yay! Mountain Dew for me!" The sweet sweet Asian lady behind the counter was being so very nice to me, as I was the only person in the store, and so politely asked me:
"Are you having a boy or a girl?"
Since it was Easter, and I didn't want to make her feel bad, even though I pretty much felt crappy myself at that part, I simply said:
"We don't know yet. We're waiting to find out."
I think Jesus understands my little Easter lie.