Sunday, April 08, 2007

Happy Easter!

We had a very cold Easter (for the South, anyway!) I put some jelly beans in Easter eggs and Jesse stashed them here and there out front. (I also bought Sixlets and chocolate eggs to put in the Easter eggs. Note to self: Never buy Easter candy 3 weeks early again.) Despite the chill in the air, the girls had a great time hunting for eggs outside. It didn't take them long to discover they were filled with candy, and suddenly the Easter Egg Hunt became an Easter Egg Mouthful Meander.

I put a cake mix, frosting, and squirty icing in each of their baskets, one pink and one yellow. So I gave them each a big mixing bowl, a whisk, and a sheepish admonition to stir slowly, then turned them loose. I couldn't get the camera to cooperate at the time, but let me just say, who needs a mixer? Those little weasels wisked until their arms were sore, made scarcely a mess, and had a great time. I only have one cake pan (and it has been sitting in a cabinet covered in dust and cobwebs since the last time Grammy visited.) So we broke out the casserole dish, poured yellow and pink cake mix in opposite ends at the same time, and hoped for the best. The result was a perfectly divided pink and yellow cake. (Around here, any attempt at baking that actually ends up in the oven rather than the trash can is cause for celebration!) So I was feeling pretty domestic at this point and rather proud of myself. Huh-huh.

Once the cake was in the oven, we dyed Easter eggs. I had the presence of mind to hard boil them the night before. When they were done, I left them in the pot to cool and went to bed feeling very Martha Stewart of myself. In the morning they were nice and cooled, and so I rinsed them and set them on the counter on paper towels to dry. About an hour before aforementioned egg-dyeing was to occur (several hours later,) I wandered past Big Ben, sound asleep in his sunbeam, and thought, "The only way that dog could have more gas would be if he owned a Citgo." Jesse and I took gross advantage of the opportunity to hardy-har-har about how bad he smelled and how he rivaled Jesse with even the sounds he makes passing gas. I was feeling rather smug as Jesse headed for the kitchen and walked straight into the cloud of stench. "OH GOD!" came his gaggy and incredulous reaction, "all he eats is dog food! How can he smell like rotten eggs?!"

Nice one Martha.

Once I realized the culprit, there was simply no turning back, as I had no more eggs to boil and two little girls who had been asking, "Mommy, is it time to color the eggs yet?" every five minutes for the last day and a half. Thankfully, we used some new-fangled glittery egg dye that you squeeze on and then roll around in a gloved hand, and it seems to have sealed in the smell.

For now.

When the eggs were successfully resting in their drying dish, the cake came out of the oven, and we headed for Red Lobster for Easter Dinner! (Considering the events of the last few hours, Martha hung up her apron for the day. Not that I ever intended to cook.) When we returned home the cake was ready to go. The pink half got yellow frosting (Lemon, mom!) and the yellow half got pink frosting, courtesy of my two tiny pastry chefs once again. Then I wrote Happy Easter on it, handed over the icing, the sugar sprinkles, and the marshmallow bunnies, then dove for the camera. They had a ball. Rooney wasn't quite strong enough to work the icing tube without help, but she didn't seem to mind serving as Food Critic instead. Natalie iced until I cut her off.

We had a great day, and considering the amount of sugar they ingested, I can't believe either of them is sleeping. Now I'm off to invent a story I can hand them tomorrow morning about what happened to the Easter Eggs! :) Happy Easter everyone!


Matthew said...

The easter cake looks like it was a great time and a lot of fun.

Anonymous said...

my granddaughter's are beautiful.... and they look like they had alot of fun. the cake reminds me, of the one they made during their visit here. i know they loved doing that.
hugs to all, grammie