Saturday was an unseasonably warm day, with the highs reaching into the 80’s. There was nary a cloud in the sky for most of the day and a light, pleasant breeze served to keep things from getting too stifling. All in all, it was the kind of a day that one relishes spending out-of-doors, occupying oneself with whatever busy work constitutes reason enough to be outside.
I spent most of it in a mall.
Franklin Mills Mall, to be specific, a hive of wretched scum and villainy whose equal you are unlikely to find elsewhere in the ‘verse, to paraphrase Sir Alec Guiness. I find that, whenever my faith in humanity has begun to wax, whenever my cynicism fades, whenever I begin to see the best in everyone, I need only visit my local mall in order to bring my Candy Land visions of universal Human Kindness to a halt. T-shirts with narcissistic or outright offensive slogans abound, Loud Public Cell Phone Talkers clog the main mall arteries operating under the mistaken assumption that everyone else will find their conversations as interesting as they do, and lazy parents allow their apparently legally-blind children barely out of strollers to push said strollers about, certain to slam into some poor unsuspecting soul or to tip, spilling its now-wailing contents onto the oh-so-clean mall floors. But I digress.
We went to the mall in search of a few last-minute Easter accoutrements and, battle-scarred and weary we emerged nearly three hours later.
Sunday, “we” arose (and by “we”, I mean “I”) at 5:30am in order to muster the forces in order to make it to my parents’ church by 8am for the traditional Easter Morning breakfast. I am pleased to report that we managed to make it to the church by 8:05, a scant 5 minutes “late”, only to find that the Sunrise Service had not yet completed and we could have safely been an additional 15 minutes late or so.
The breakfast was followed by a Brief Stewart (the Youngers) Nap in my father’s office, as such an early awakening had taken a toll on father, mother and child. We napped until the service (held at 11am, as per proper Presbyterian protocol) and then found our way to the back of the sanctuary so as to be able to escape with relative ease should Will begin acting up. We made it through the service with little incident (except for my son overpowering his diaper and managing to wet not only his pantleg but mine as well) and, at around 11:50, I made my way to the front of the sanctuary to participate in the yearly rendition of The Hallelujah Chorus put on by the church’s choir and those from the congregation willing to lend their voices. I was able to score a prime spot this year next to a bass who could 1) carry a tune and 2) carry this specific tune, which allowed me to skip my routine of jumping randomly between the tenor and bass lines of the Chorus and stick to the bass alone.
We headed back to my parents’ house after the service for Easter lunch/dinner and a family wedding shower for my brother and his fiance. Turkey and ham were eaten, cake and coffee were consumed, tales exchanged, advice given and goodbyes said. We Younger Stewarts rolled in late Sunday evening and hit the sheets, dead tired.
Easter Weekend In Brief
