Whew! We got through Easter without Rachel spilling the (jelly)beans. You see, last week she informed me that there certainly wasn't an Easter bunny. In her words, "A bunny wouldn't wear clothes and come into our house and leave eggs." Oh, okay - but a fat man from the North Pole does land on our roof and come down our chimney. Apparently, she is very selective in her suspension of disbelief.
I know she's 5 already; but compared to her siblings, Rachel's a little Einstein. Usually, our kids are 8 or 9 before they figure out that we're lying to them. I had to make her promise not to disillusion Brian (who is 2 years older) and little Susie. I threatened her, in fact, with no jellybeans if she ruined the magic of the holiday for her more gullible siblings. We take our fantasy pretty seriously around here.
About a year ago, I was "volunteered" to serve a 3-year stint as president of our townhouse community association. I guess everyone thought that with only 6 kids at home, I had extra time on my hands. Also, it was a Bunko night and a little too much wine had gone around, okay? This whole situation is laughable, as I do not know what I am doing. And I don't have any brain cells left to figure it out. Fortunately, someone else is treasurer; and he has promised me that he will have a budget figured out by tomorrow evening's yearly homeowners' meeting. I, in turn, have promised him any number of hand-knitted items if he will agree to cover for my stupidity over the next 2 years. I think that's fair, don't you?
I really hate being in charge of things that people might yell at me about.
And for those of you who were wondering, Anna did not go naked to church Easter morning; instead, she showed up in last year's Easter outfit. Fine with me. Now if I can just find the receipt for that other dress....otherwise, we may have a nifty giveaway here soon. Kalynne? Does your daughter need a sundress, along with a modesty-preserving shrug? Knee-length, looks decent with flats - just don't let her wear it with high heels, unless you approve of the strumpet look for young teens. In which case, my Anna would like to live with you.
I had a weird dream last night, too convoluted to explain here; but the part that stands out in my mind is that I was hitting people in hospital beds (invalids, I think) on the head and yelling, "Be nice to me!" It worked, too - they gave me presents.
I don't want to even think about what that means.