Keep on Hopping


Well, that was weird.

I could have sworn (actually I did swear quite a bit) that I still had an egg dying kit left over from last year. I’m d@mn near sure I did, by god, because I had to f’ing order the gaddomn things from the sh!tty Foreign Buyers Club.


See what I mean?

I’m pretty sure I know what happened. HRH is constantly cleaning out closets and cabinets, things that I would never ever do. Mainly because I spend all of my time cleaning crud off the floor. But anyway, HRH in my imagination goes, “WTH is is? We haven’t used this in a year!” and tosses it out.

International marriage 101: do NOT throw away stuff from the other culture’s holiday without first confirming when said holiday is. Easter is a tricky one, I get that. I can’t remember when it is either. I’ve tried explaining it to HRH why it changes every year, but his eyes glaze over. Kind of like an Easter egg.

At any rate, I can’t find the thing now. I tried to make natural food coloring using green tea and curry powder, but it didn’t work out very well. Except for on my hands, on course. Now this stupid crazy idea wasn’t totally out of left field; I’ve used those things in dying play dough before. But alas, it won’t work for eggs.

The only food coloring I have in the house right now is red.

So now here is the conundrum: drag my two tired children and my frumpy self (dark circles and all) to the grocery store to procure food coloring and thus throw off the whole evening routing by at least half an hour, or make due with red eggs.

Scroll up and laugh at the photo of our red eggs. I’ll wait….

Okay, well, another thing happened to us earlier in the day that made me feel okay about something like an Easter with only red eggs. (P.S. Please don’t tell Me Too because she thinks they are all pink, and she is thrilled. She’s also planning to leave chocolate for the Easter bunny. I guess we need to talk about who is leaving what for whom.)

I think I’ve mentioned before that my kids go to an “English school” several Saturdays a month. Lately the parents have been arranging an activity for the siblings who are waiting. (There are two classes and only one classroom.) Anyway, today was my turn to prepare something for the older kids, and I brought an Easter themed crossword. It went over really well. In was hamming it up a lot and trying to get the kids talking (in English!) as well as sharing our (more or less) common culture.

In the course of the activity, it becomes apparent that our house is the only house expecting a visit from the Easter bunny. We were also the only family dying eggs. Maybe it’s because Me First is one of the youngest ones in the class, maybe because for the majority of these kids it’s the dad who is non-Japanese, and Dads seem to view this kind of stuff as woman’s work. But I’m assuming. I don’t know.

It made me sad. I suspect it may have pissed of Jesus. Wait, let me re-think that for a minute…Maybe the Easter bunny actually pisses him off more, hum. (Note to self: stop thinking for Jesus.) Anyway, if I’d known that the extent of Easter for this particular group of kids consisted solely of a party we had two weeks ago, I would have planned a different activity. We could have dyed eggs together. Maybe even used more than one color.

So I’m feeling like I earned some extra credit in the raising bilingual, bicultural kids category just by trying. (And my kids even know Easter is about Jesus coming back from the dead- bonus point! But they keep referring to today as “Easter Eve” so minus one. And Me Too thinks the Easter baskets go under the table so minus two. D@mn.) Anyway, I’m okay with the all-red eggs. At least it was an effort, and in our own only-red way, we’ve participated in an ancient tradition that actually pre-dates Christ.

Things like decorating the Christmas tree, dying Easter eggs, dressing up for Halloween, all those seemingly illogical things we do for the sake of tradition connect us to the past in a way studying and reading about history cannot. How many generations of children have awed in delight when an egg emerges from the dye? Like it’s magic.

Since Dad died a year and a half ago, these traditions have taken on a different meaning for me. I do them with my children, but half of my heart is back in my own childhood, reliving the sweet, simple moments. The happy times have become bittersweet. But I think there is meaning in that, in connecting ourselves to the past and to the future. I hope one day my children are able to appreciate the effort.

In the meantime, nobody seems to mind the red pink eggs.

Happy Easter Eve, everyone.


1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. gaijinwife
    Apr 08, 2012 @ 13:48:31

    I love the eggs. I thought that was the plan from the start – pretty pink eggs :) I wish we had celebrated Easter as kids but bar a chocolate bunny from my grandparents every year till we were ten we did nothing. OK, so mum and dad always bought hot cross buns but it was never an ‘event’. no dying eggs or egg hunts – things I have only done since coming to Japan!

    I hope I get my hot cross buns right next year! Hub told me not to bother. He doesn’t like the smell of yeast. Might cause problems when I buy a bread maker but hey, I have to put up with cooking rice five days out of seven :)


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: