Easter
Of all the holidays we celebrate, I hate Easter almost as much as I hate Christmas. Why? Candy is involved. And my children + candy = a volatile combination.
Bonnie and I limit our kids' easter candy intake as much as possible, but there's a finite limit to how much we can control it -- the kids often find their easter baskets filled with toys and books and crafts instead.
As we do every year, this year we went to my grandmother's house. She baked a really nice ham and prepared a great spread of food for us to enjoy. She also hid a couple dozen plastic easter eggs around the living room for the kids to find.
That's the first mistake. Because one kid is always going to find more than the others. Then the other will claim that it's not fair that the first found more. And the first is usually Bob. And he doesn't handle conflict very well.
And my grandmother has a penchant for giving each of the kids one special egg -- it'll have a Cadbury Creme Egg in it or something -- so if one kid finds all three of the dark green eggs, let's say, he or she has to divide up his riches between the other two. Second mistake.
So, by 2:30 or so -- within about a half an hour of getting to my grandmother's house -- the kids have been driven to utter distraction through this Easter egg hunt ritual. What's more, they've now been rewarded for their work by being given a pound or two of sugary products that they're just dying to eat -- marshmallow Peeps, for example, and chocolate coins wrapped in gold tin. And the aforementioned Cadbury Creme Eggs.
Just in time for dinner. Which they pick at, poke at, and do everything in their power not to eat. After all, they don't want to spoil their appetite for junk.
So, by four or five pm I've usually made myself hoarse by yelling at the kids over various infractions of the rules that they bloody well know better than to break; they're completely incoherent from their unsupervised intake of sugar; and I'm ready for a nervous breakdown.
All in all, NOT my favorite day of the year.