Most of you already know what our children ended up looking like on Easter Sunday. Let's take a moment to dissect exactly what occurred in their descent into the maelstrom.
First Phase: The Easter Miracle - a family photo with no crying or dirty clothes. Then we actually made it to church. We revelled in God's mystery for 15 whole minutes before the nursery teachers came to get us because our children were screaming bloody murder.
Next Phase: The search for oh-so cleverly hidden Easter baskets.
Next Phase: A moment of fashion coolness just before delving into the chocolate. A brief moment.
Next Phase: Slightly punchy from two hours of steady chocolate inhalation, we don our Easter bonnets and check out the Easter presents from Gramma Julia & Big Mike. Sam also tried his roller skates and loves them. Because they are both cool new toys and because his brothers are too little to use them.
Next Phase: Overdose.
Next Phase: The realization that Mom & Dad have emerged from their temporary insanity, gathered up all remaining goodies, and put them in the freezer. Attention is switched from eating to spreading Easter basket grass in as thin a layer as possible over every square foot of the house. Wheelbarrows turn out to be very useful tranport devices.
Final Phase: The inevitability of bedtime. And more wine for Mommy & Daddy.