Because Explaining the Crucifixion To Your Kids Isn’t Hard Enough

Around 8 a.m. on Easter morning I was already having visions of what my Easter round-up post was going to look like.  Baskets had been prepared the evening before and I thought they were quite fetching.  A cinnamon-vanilla baked french toast was in the oven, filling the kitchen with a heavenly aroma.  The kid's outfits for church were pressed and ready to go, and I just knew I was going to get some adorable pictures of them together.  After a week of cold, dreary rain, the sky was blue and the forecast was for temperatures in the 60s.  And for the first time in my nearly 7 years as a parent, I had gone the extra mile and hidden eggs in the back yard.  I was sipping my coffee at the kitchen table and thinking of all these wonderful things that I would share here later.

And then Mike came downstairs, looked out the back doors, and said, "What the hell is going on out there?"

This would be going on out there:

A hawk was perched on the top of our play set.  Maybe he saw all the eggs in our yard and thought it was some kind of breakfast buffet.  The eggs weren't to his liking, but not to worry.  He wouldn't starve.  He found his very own Peep, formerly known as Robin Red Breast.  The fact that he was enjoying an Easter breakfast in our backyard wasn't a problem.  In fact, it was borderline cool.  This, however, was not cool:

That stuff all over the plastic egg and the ground?  It's not poop, as Elena guessed.  That would be feathers.  Poor little Robin Red Breast feathers.  Every time he took a peck or a bite or whatever it is they do, a shower of feathers would float to the ground.

If you even think about letting those kids out here to hunt for Easter eggs before I'm finished I will carry off that little round chickadee of yours and have him for dinner.

Dang.  I thought it had a marshmallow center.

He eventually did fly off, and thankfully he took his leftovers with him.  Nobody wanted to pick up this egg.  I wonder why.

As I'm taking pictures of the egg and all the feathers underneath, Elena says, "Momma, since you're so interested in taking pictures of it, you should be the one to get it.  And then put it in my basket, m'kay?"

After all that excitement, it was a relatively peaceful day.  Elena was thrilled with the face-painting set she found in her basket and proceeded to paint anyone that sat still for 2 minutes.  Eli ate his weight in candy and has declared Easter the best holiday ever.  And as for all those adorable pictures I was going to get of the kids together in their Easter best?  Yeah, not so much.  Apparently threatening them to sit still and smile nicely or the hawk will come back and peck their eyes out wasn't my best idea.  Who knew?