Great Expectations

I really thought today would be different.  I did.  After all, my youngest has already reached the august age of 7, and we have only 4 children at home this Easter; there's no reason not to be able to pull off a civilized sort of Easter dinner, with everyone sitting down at the same time.  I even stacked the odds in my favor by keeping it simple - roast beef sandwiches (PB&J for the vegetarians) on delicious bakery rye bread, with ice cream sundaes for dessert.  No worrying about different hot dishes being ready at the same time, no mountains of pots and pans to detract from the holiday atmosphere. 

Pictures like these make me weep.
So I gave it the old college try.  I had the children spread the Easter tablecloth (well, not cloth, exactly - more like vinyl, with pictures of bunnies and eggs on it, but "cloth" sounds better, doesn't it?) and set out matching plates (an Easter miracle, right there - 6 matching plates, albeit plastic and from Target), along with pretty dishes of strawberries and pickles.  Also? A little plate of sandwich toppings.

I was going for ambience, people, in a minimalist sort of way. 

Reality, however, intervened.  Wait, did I say intervened?  I meant to say, reality jumped behind the wheel of a Mack truck and drove it straight through any foolish fantasies of wholesome family togetherness that I might have had the temerity to entertain.

Susie spent most of lunch screaming in her room because she WANTED EGG SALAD (we hadn't dyed the eggs yet, so I wasn't letting anyone touch them).  David spent the first half of our holiday meal guarding her door.  Larry, after finishing his own meal, replaced David at his post so that he could have some lunch, but not before having to jump up from the table to respond to an emergency involving an exploding can of Coca Cola.  It was messy.  Very messy. 

All in all, today felt like any other day around our kitchen table, only louder.  And with better bread...

[Easter table image: SheKnows]

Comments

  1. It's all about the bread.
    And laughter.
    With those things the rest will just be just a day in the life.
    I'm just happy you ate.
    This old gal planted the lettuce bed and did not cook.

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  2. This post is balm for a weary soul. Our meals/days are regularly filled with screaming children (and today was worse than normal), so to hear someone else dealing with the same shameless crap....well, I feel better already.

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    Replies
    1. You totally have an excuse, having relocated everyone to a foreign country for the year!

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  3. Reality just won't stop getting in the way. I had my own Easter freak out fifteen minutes before our guests arrived because I felt I looked fat in my dress and it was too late to find something else to wear. In other words, I was the one having the tantrum, not the kids.

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  4. Ugh. The soda spill would make my eye twitch all by itself.

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  5. Sounds like Easter, at our house. Heck...sounds like every day, at our house. You're welcome to come over, we'll eat outside...this way...who cares if the soda explodes, right?!? RIGHT?!? [crickets] Riiiiiiiiight. Stupid holidaze.

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  6. Better bread. Totally worth it. :)

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