Yes, I’m late to this game because we have a new machine now and I didn’t have it set up for posting on the blog JUST THE WAY I WANT IT, and so I just refused to do it.
Because that’s how I roll.
At some point, however, Greg fixed it for me, so now I’m all out of excuses. That’s okay, because really I do want to make this post.
So last weekend was Easter, and we went to visit my mother, but not before dyeing 24 eggs:
“But wait,” you say. “There are, by grab, only 23 eggs in that photo.” You would be correct. One suffered a casualty while being boiled. Also, the purple one in the lower right-hand corner suffered a visible shell fracture in the hands of our resident three-year-old, whose idea of ‘carefully dipping the egg in the bowls of dye’ consists of tossing it into the bowl as one would toss a rock into a pond.
We carefully packed the eggs and made the trip to Grandma’s house. Within 12 hours of arrival, I sprained my ankle while kickboxing with Anita. That, in turn, prompted a trip to urgent care (and may I kindly point out that many of the Springfield urgent care centers aren’t even open on Saturdays? I mean, DUH, the whole point of urgent care is that it’s URGENT, hello). X-rays revealed only a sprain, a doozy of a sprain according to the doc, but just a sprain. I’m so grateful.
We had egg hunts – everyone else watched but I desperately needed a shower after kickboxing and then sitting in urgent care, so I left Greg with the camera and severe instructions to take lots of photos:
The weather was gorgeous so we had grilled burgers and beer and cake, and lo, on Sunday morning the Easter Bunny came for a visit so of course we had chocolate (lots of chocolate!). Not that there was any shortage of sugar that weekend anyway:
So we all had a great time – including me, busted ankle and all.