Easter is always a great holiday- and an especially tough time of the year for Dad. He has a particular fancy for the Easter candy, a veritable peepaholic. But we digress. Holidays are for children, and we had a great Easter, shared with family members this year.
Multiple Easter bunnies warranted some explaining this year. Abby decided the one at Festival was the real one, and the one at Seroogy's wasn't, mostly because you could tell the one at Seroogy's (above) was wearing sneakers. Nothing gets by this 5-year-old.
We dedorated eggs and celebrated with the Amezcua family- dying eggs and hiding them over and over. And over. And over.
We also went to a local non-denominational church for an easter egg hunt in their gym, that was attended by hundreds of children and their parents. Mostly because it was free, I think, though nothing is truly free. As we waited for each age group to go, we got a great sing-along sermon, and a testimony meeting all in one. Interesting, to be sure. Good to see commited people, and taught me a lesson about sharing my testimony, while giving away candy.
What I called "Easter Town", a fabricated indoor playground with candy strewn about, and golden eggs to find. The elbows were sharp, and the parents viscious.
Also face painting/tatoos, and games for more candy. Ahhhh, the candy.
Easter baskets on easter morning. Let the sugar rush begin!
And of course, what holiday would be complete without a major injury. Playing with the dogs on the swingset, Abby got a little too excited with a rope swing taunting the pooches, and fell off, wrapping her neck in the rope on the way down. Our five year old tried to hang herself, basically. Did I mention she did this while Mom and Dad were at the mall? Poor Auntie Allison had to handle the trauma and crying that ensued. And there was much. Luckily, social services didn't haul us off to the hoosegow as soon as we got Abby back in school. A fast healer, that one.
A great time of year for a kite, and Dad and Abby had a ball with Sammy and Sarah flying the kite. Ben Franklin eat your heart out!
For a second view of our trip to the cousins, check out my
sister's hilarious blog-
Or, The Curious Case of Naming the Kitty Bo-bitty. 
Meet the newest member of our family, a cute as a button red tabby named... well... we're just not sure. 
Find the Kitty! 
There he is! Here's why the trouble with naming: When we got the cat, we decided since we already have three A's, it was time for another J for Mommy. We were told it was a boy, so we picked out some great boy names- the girls wanted to name it Skippy John Jeremy, after the children's book Skippy John Jones. Dad was particularly fond of the name Kevin, but that didn't stick. Dad would have been OK with "Alan" as well, but no one likes Dad's cat names.
We had settled on Jeremy, when we took the little one to the vet. Our great friend Sally Wolfe said "Sooo, perhaps you would like to make it Skippy John Jane? It's a girl!" That kind of changed things. We were now all discombobulated. Now we had to come up with a girls name. Dad argued that it doesn't matter what we call it, since cats don't come when they are called, and put Kevin back on the table, but that didn't fly.
Mom started calling the little one "Kitty Bo-bitty", and so far, that name seems to have stuck. Abby, who we got the pretty paws for, has pondered the name "Buttercup", but the little one is just too feisty for a name like that. Grandpa came, met the cat, and dubbed it "Trouble", as in "Here Comes." 
