Easter

Easter is yet another great holiday, or wingding as I like to call it. (An aside: When we went to the P-Nuts playgroup joint 2-year-old birthday celebration, Daddy taught me that we were attending a wingding over and over in the car. I internalized it and now all events where there is both fun to be had and people to have it with are wingdings.) Yesterday morning I got up and found that the Easter Rabbit (the "buddy bat" as I call him) had come to visit me. I got all sorts of good stuff including a bit of chocolate. While I dislike all other forms of candy, I really like chocolate. Next, we all got dressed up for church. Mommy tried to put me in a shirt with evil buttons on it, but I protested vigorously and ended up button-free. Mommy explained to me that church is where people think about Jesus. Jesus is, apparently, a nice man who helps people. I'm all for that. In church, the highlight was all the songs. Every time we would stop signing songs and people would start to talk, I would pipe up from the back of the church my request: "more songs, more songs." Daddy seemed to agree with me on this sentiment. When church was over and we went outside, I kind of missed the church and the songs. I suggested that we go back by saying "more Jesus, more Jesus."

When we got home, we went on an Easter egg hunt in the backyard. While some people like to gather all the eggs on the hunt before determining what's inside, I prefer more immediate feedback. I would give an egg to my assistant, Daddy, and order him to open it. I would then inspect the contents and make an immediate judgment: If it was chocolate, then it should be eaten immediately---"eat" I'd say. If it was a toy, then it required immediate playing with. If it was a non-chocolate piece of food such as cereal or teddy grahams, then it could be safely ignored and I would proceed to the next egg.

I like Easter.