I celebrated my favorite holiday. I belted out Alleluia till my throat hurt.
I traveled (sans vomit via carsick toddler--both ways!) to my aunt and uncle's home and surprised my parents.
I stuffed my gut with delicious food.
I heard my sons tell their tales about hiking/climbing half way up the mountain ridge behind my aunt's house. Let me tell you, they were good tales with cliffs,
Good, good stuff.
Until we returned home.
My husband accidentally knocked down a shelf while carrying in a huge amount of Easter dinner leftovers and trying not to spill them.
|Parents wept over their babies.|
|Mothers held tightly to their children.|
|A full view of the destruction.|
|And the most disturbing view.|
It happens. He was more upset about ruining my collection than I was. I was just glad he wasn't hurt because the carnage was pretty brutal.
The poor children were upset because each one of their births was commemorated by the purchase of a figurine. I just tried to reassure them that it's not the stuff that made their births special, but the other way around!
It should be fun to try to glue them back together. Maybe if I have time later I can post a before/after photo.
Until then, Happy Easter!