Last night at Church, we attended the annual egg hunt held on the intramural fields. Someone had remarked earlier that we should maintain our focus on the REAL meaning of Easter and not participate too much in the whole Easter Bunny thing. Truthfully, I didn’t know the two were mutually exclusive. No one complains (almost no one) about the Christmas Tree taking light away from the REAL meaning of Christmas. As Sheldon from The Big Bang Theory likes to remark, The original use of trees to celebrate the winter solstice was pagan and the actual birth date was move to coincide with local customs. Really?!?!? Who cares how or why we do things? I think we should practice giving to the needy all year around instead of simply waiting to receive the Atlanta Union Mission pledge letter every Thanksgiving, and being guilted into giving $3 for a family to eat. On Thanksgiving. Should there be any question?
The eggs were scattered across the field and the kids were separated by age group to hunt them. There was actually no “hunting.” Really, they just ran and picked up as many as possible. Son did not understand the process because he clearly thought there would be a reward in the eggs. He stopped at the first lavender orb, opened it, then looked around quizzically. WTF!?!!? Yesterday was a long day starting at 4AM with a trip to the gym and then making it all they way through 7:30PM when we returned home only to do bedtime, where son back talked and befuddled wife and I to the tipping point.
Speaking of holidays, I know why everyone gets crazy around them. So much of the year we spend in anonymity, conducting our daily routine that we find comfortable. Then, several times a year, members of your immediate family whom you choose not to live with on purpose descend into your personal space. Wife inherited a willful desire (urge/commitment) to find the perfectly shaped Christmas tree. Mind you, no faux trees in this house. I grew up with a tree that Dad assembled each year. Eventually, when mom and dad bought a large enough house with a basement, they kept it assembled in the basement so ten minute setup guaranteed. It’s like that new minute rice you boil in the bag. It takes 90 seconds to get tasty rice (wait- I thought it was minute rice), and voila, ready-to-eat.
Easter is approaching and ham was suggested as the Le repas de la jour. Every year, we eat ham, devilled eggs, potato salad. What is this, a picnic? I asked wife to cook lamb. She’ll be out of town so I will be hitting up Fresh Market for a boneless leg of lamb. I love boneless meat because it defies logic. Now, skinless, boneless meat is a delicacy. I love when I can eat meat with a spoon. Vienna sausages and Spam are completely underrated. I don’t see why people frown or turn their nose up at these American delicacies. The French have been eating duck liver pâté since Louis XIV. Heck, the Japanese eat squid intestines; I know this because I saw it on Bizarre Foods. See, the TV was on as I passed through the room to go to bed. Wife was doing laundry when I climbed in, set the alarm and rolled over. No romance last night.
With the impending Spring Break, I plan to get in some long, easy miles to build up my triathlon base. During that time, I am sure I will try to ease the anxiety of dealing with relatives during holidays. George Costanza’s father had it right when he made his own holiday, Festivus, the festival for the rest of us. Despite dreading the holidays, I always leave happier because after all, I don’t live on an Island.