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Mom has all the holiday photos from when we were little so I'm afraid I can't offer any proof that we really did wear white gloves with Easter tights. But I think this photo fits the story well. I'm sure you can imagine the craziness on Easter Eve with all these little girls. Missie is in the shorts, Fawn is in the blue jumper, Spring is in the stripes, Taffy is in red and I'm in mom's arms... because I'm the favorite.

As I was putting on my yard clothes to go outside and mow the lawn (for Easter mind you) I caught myself having the same conversation in my head that we use to have with our parents every Easter Saturday.

Us – “Why do we have to do the yard??? It’s our holiday too, ya know! We aren’t supposed to work!”

Mom or Dad (or both) – “Because the yard has to look nice for Easter.”

Us – “Buuut!!!”

Them – “Go!!”

Us – “It’s not fair!!!  GAW!!!”

Them – “How ’bout we don’t celebrate Easter this year?”

Us -(silence)

This got me thinking about the entire day and all the little things we would do to prepare for Easter Sunday.  Basically, Easter Saturday went a little something like this:

Mom and I somewhere in Florida. I'm sure you're all thinking, "Look at that precious little girl! How in the world could something so cute drive people crazy??"... I have no doubt that mom was wishing that alligator would come to life in that very moment.

9:00 am Easter Saturday

Mom – “Turn off the television and head outside to do the yard. WAIT!!! Before you go, pull out your Easter clothes, I want to make sure everything’s clean.”

Us – “errrmmm…gaw!”

1. Find your white gloves and make sure they match.

2. Clean your shoes (don’t let mom see you using her kitchen washcloth).

3. Check your tights for holes.

4. If the holes are in a location where they can be seen in the new Easter dress try and convince mom you’re too old for tights.

5. Try to convince mom the holes weren’t there the week before when she specifically asked you to check and then let her know if you needed new tights so she wouldn’t have to get them at the last minute.

6. Be sent outside to do the yard and pray that mom will reconsider her decision to cancel Easter because she doesn’t have the time or the patience to deal with the holy tights situation.

*Insert yard conversation from above.

7. Forget that dad can hear everything from his office and end up fighting with Spring and Taffy about who’s doing the most work.

8. Swear swear swear you’ll stop fighting and then pray that dad will reconsider his decision to cancel Easter.

9. Finish yard but stay close to house for two reasons: 1. Just in case mom decides we have to dye the Easter eggs early instead of after dinner… the way it’s been done every other year. And 2. So that dad and mom will see your best behavior and agree that you’ve earned back Easter.

10. Sometime around 5:30 pm head inside to take a bath and wash your hair… be sure to comb your hair so that it will dry with a style and not look crazy on Easter.

11. Use all your will to resist asking mom (again) about dyeing Easter eggs…but fail miserably and get sent out of the kitchen.

12. Dye eggs in the kitchen while mom is prepping Easter dinner.

11. Clown around while dying eggs and be sent to room.

12. Call to mom (from room) and tell her you’re so so sorry and promise to behave for the rest of the night if she’ll let you finished dyeing the eggs.

13. Sit in room and try to come up with a plan B.

14. Try to save Easter by calling to mom (from room) and asking if you can come out to kiss her goodnight.

14. Cry on bed and beg God to change mom’s mind about cancelling Easter…fall asleep.

It never failed, throughout Easter Eve each of us at one time or another would be threatened to within an inch of our lives for driving mom and dad crazy, would be sent our rooms for clowning around and would cry and beg for one more chance to behave. Then at some point after the eggs were dyed and the television specials were over we’d forget the drama of the day and be so excited about Easter that we’d actually kiss each other good night before heading off to bed.

And once again I find myself on my knees with gratitude for what my parents endured to give us the most amazing childhood. Why they didn’t sell us to the circus I will never know.

Happy Easter!

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