Holy week and the Easter weekend have always been special for our family. This time of year still is, but our celebration has changed quite a bit as the kids have aged. We did not have the traditional egg hunt this year, mostly because the time got away from us and it was a rainy, nasty day anyway. The different parts of our family attended their own separate churches, instead of attending one en masse. We did all get together for a fabulous brunch at a local restaurant. Certainly not the traditional ham & fixings feast, but there was no clean up, so that is one tradition I don't mind changing. I think the thing I miss the most, though, is the "special Easter outfit."Gone
are the days of the freshly scrubbed little cherubs all dressed in their special Easter finery. No precious pastel dresses and sport-coats. No brand new patent leather dress shoes. Instead, it looked like we were carting around refugees from a trailer park after the tornado had passed through. Perhaps I am being too harsh. I'll let you be the judge:
#1 Son - His first outfit of the morning consisted of a t-shirt that proclaimed "I'm Out of Bed and Dressed, What More Do You Want?" and a pair of jeans that loudly proclaim their manufacturer. I "subtly dropped the hint" that perhaps he should change. Okay, I admit it was probably more along the lines of, "there is no WAY you are wearing THAT to Easter brunch
," but I digress. After quite a bit of digging in drawers and closets, it was determined that the dress pants we had purchased for him in December no longer fit. Instead he chose a shirt that can best be described as "sort of Hawaiian" and khaki shorts. I was actually fine with the outfit. No really, I was. What got me was the hair.
#1 Son's hair has grown out since the monumental haircut of several weeks ago. He decided yesterday that he was going to wear a Mohawk
. This does not, however, consist of shaving the sides of the head as it did in my day. Now they use a handful of "spiking cement" to slick the hair into a straight line that stands erect along the top of the head. Think of it as a Mohawk without the commitment. It resembles a shark fin. Unfortunately the thing stuck up at least four inches tall. Every time he bent his head towards anyone, he poked them in the eye. I admire the restraint of all of his grandparents, who never said a word about the new "do," though they did keep giving me strange looks throughout the meal.
The Little One - She assured me that she had her Easter outfit all picked out. She did, all right. She appeared wearing a pair of blue camouflage cargo shorts and an olive colored skater t-shirt that was emblazoned with the number 360 and a skull with wings
. She accessorized this get up with a knee-length argyle sock and a high-top pink and black Converse tennis shoe. She insisted that she could not
wear a skirt because it would show her walking cast. *sigh* After much cajoling, on C.'s part, not mine - I've learned not to fight with her about clothes - she had changed her outfit. The final choice was a bright pink and black polka dot layered skirt, a black "trucker" t-shirt, a black knit poncho and the aforementioned argyle sock and Converse combination.
My friends, C. and I are the masters of denial. You should have seen us walk into that fancy restaurant with our heads held high. We like to think of the fashion freak-show
as our Easter gift to the world.