Sunday, April 12, 2009
crossing the chocolate rubicon
Well, I hope you're happy.
The Biscuit had her first real taste of good ol' American sugared-up-hyperactive-cavity-chocoliciousness today. Hoo, boy.
It all started so simply. We filled her Easter basket with coloring books, an egg-shaped Magnadoodle, socks, and one little-bitty-3-inch-tall hollow chocolate bunny. Baby Binks.
It all started with Baby Binks.
She was very excited about her basket and immediately put on the pink-striped Hello Kitty socks, which she has worn all day, through 3 relative-pleasing costume changes. I may have taken some liberties with this photo.
And also with this photo, which shows a shirt innocently purchased off the sale rack at Target when she was only 3 months old, long before she showed her true colors and established that she would be in constant, curious, adventurous motion. Back when she actually held still occasionally. Now, she's like a constant blur, even without the questionable influence of holiday candy.
Man, those little dudes are having a really good time. Especially the one on the vine.
Next, we bathed and dressed the kids and headed over to Nina and Big Ben's house for family Easter, where we were puzzled to find them toiling and sweating in the garden. On Easter morning. Undeterred, we pulled out the Wii and made our own fun.
I checked the calendar to make sure it was Easter, which it was, but I think they may have been stuck in some sort of time warp to 1993. Then my dad took a shower and informed us that he has only showered 3 times in his house, each time for a funeral, except for this time. So that made me feel really good getting on the highway to go to Uncle Mike's house.
No, that wasn't foreboding at all. Thanks, Dad.
So I squeezed t.rex into his snail suit, and we left for the next Easter party, guided by Dr. Krog's amazing GPS system, which sounds just like Caprica from Battlestar Gallactica. Every time she tells us to do something, we mutter, "Thank you, Caprica," just in case she's feeling like crushing some human skulls if they give her any lip.
Here is the snail suit. Go on, laugh.
He later tinkled out the wrong side and wore a much tougher frog suit.
We had a wonderful time visiting with family, eating delicious food, and watching the Biscuit find eggs in the backyard with her cousins, or second cousins, or something. And there were delicious little chocolate cupcakes with buttercream icing. So little that eating 6 felt like *nothing*, although i'm sure I couldn't possibly have eaten six. I'm positive.
Then we trucked it back into town to visit the great-grands, who fed us leftover vegetables as we all watched golf and made random comments about golf, which none of us know anything about. And then Papa asked which inning it was 3 times in a row. But the pictures were good.
"What are you doing with your fingers, buddy?" I asked her.
"It's just a finger smile," she said.
"What's a 'finger smile'?"
"This," she said, and did it again.
I have no idea what this means. But I do know that by this point, she had ingested one Baby Binks, one small German chocolate rabbit, one small cupcake with buttercream icing, and a sneaked/snucked/snucken jelly bean. So here's what happened next:
Happy Easter, Papa! Enjoy the view!
And the afternoon has only gone downhill from there. She is currently in her room crying, having been thoroughly screeched at for crayoning a window with her Easter crayons, because surprisingly, sugar appears to impair her judgment and self-control.
Personally, I have tried to cram 3 weeks' worth of chocolate and cheese into one day, and I want to crawl into bed with a bottle of Tums and a salad and compose poetry about never eating another frozen hollow chocolate rabbit, especially the super-extra-tall one.
So, in conclusion, it was exactly the sort of Easter you would expect from our family. The sort with entirely too much chocolate and not nearly enough naps.