My little blogging hiatus has officially begun and a fun round of guest posters begins now.
See you when I return!
One of my most vivid memories of Easter came from the year I was 15. That probably seems kinda strange because most people probably remember Easter’s from when they were small, hunting eggs, getting visits from the Easter bunny, wearing a pretty dress. I do remember all of that too, and it was great, but my most memorable experience was when I was 15. Probably because that is the worst I have ever felt about myself in my entire life. And it is all thanks to my Momma.
After my parents divorced we were really poor. Not just poor, but po’. I’m still not sure how my Mom was able to make ends meet, but I’m pretty sure it had something to do with magic. This particular Easter my Mom gave me $20 to go to the mall with my aunt and cousin. She told me I could spend the money on whatever I wanted with one condition. I had to get a Cadbury egg for my little brother’s Easter basket. They were his favorites and she had not had a chance to get one. I promised that I would take care of it.
I left for the mall and had a great shopping trip. I picked up a new purse that matched my Easter outfit and a couple of new cassette tapes (Tiffany and Lionel Richie, Dancing on the Ceiling, I know, awesomeness). I hung out with my cousin and we did all kinds of fun 15 year old girl stuff. On the way home my aunt asked, “Did you remember to get that thing for Jason?”
My heart dropped out of my chest and all of the sudden my purchases didn’t seem all that great or fun. Disappointing my mother was no. 1 on my “do not do” list. My Mom already had it hard enough and she didn’t need any more trouble. I couldn’t believe that the one thing she asked me to do I had forgotten all about. Not to mention my Momma can lay down a guilt trip like no one you have ever heard. Granted she did learn from the master (my Grandmother). I knew what was coming, and I wasn’t disappointed.
I walked in my bags and started showing her everything. She was enthusiastic and was glad that I had a good time and then she started looking around and asked THE question, “where is the Cadbury egg?” “Well… um… I forgot. I’m sorry.”
That look immediately came on her face. The heartbroken one with the downcast eyes followed up by the big sigh. “That’s ok. I mean it was the only thing I asked you to do. And it is the only thing your baby brother wanted for Easter. But that’s fine. I’m sure he’ll be fine with it. I mean, you did get everything you wanted.” I’ve never been able to bite into the chocolaty, gooey goodness of a Cadbury egg again without feeling the shame of that moment.
Of course that doesn’t stop me from biting into one, or 12, every Easter.
Jennifer of Momma Made It Look Easy is to thank for the forgotten Cadbury Egg. One of the things I love about her blog is this disclaimer: “names have been changed to protect the innocent, aka the kids. Because let’s face it, the adults I write about lost their innocence a long time ago.”
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