Easter Weekend

Good Friday --- For the second year in a row, we had snow on the ground for Easter. This year, of course, Easter was "early" and the snow just hasn't had time to melt (we've had almost 10 feet of snow this winter). We had great plans for Easter, of course. Here's how it was supposed to go -- combined Good Friday service at the church with the congregation from Calvary Baptist in Fredericton, with lots of music and a potluck dinner afterward; my parents up for the weekend; and a great Sunday service. Here's what happened instead.... Thursday was stormy, with snow, ice, and freezing rain. The power flickered off and on, and at 10 pm it went out for good across most of Minto. Did I mention we have electric heat? Sydonyia was already coming down with flu symptoms, so she went to bed and covered up to stay warm. By morning, it was chilly in our house! With no heat at the church, we had to call off the Good Friday service. Syd stayed covered up and tried to get some rest, while the boys and I went in search of warmth and a hot lunch -- which we found at Tim Hortons, which still had power. It was getting quite frosty when the power came back on about 3:30 in the afternoon, in time to keep us from camping out elsewhere for the night.
Easter weekend --- Saturday was a good day. Sydonyia was feeling a little better, my parents arrived, and after a hearty, delicious supper we all settled down for the evening after a busy day. I stayed up, watched HNIC, and while the house was quiet was going over the program for Easter Sunday. Around midnight, I heard a still, small, voice -- no, not THAT still, small voice. This was a six-year-old, announcing "I frew up". Further investigation revealed that he had indeed made it to the bathroom before puking copiously, and had even made it to the toilet -- but alas, the toilet seat was down. I am going to refrain from a detailed description of that scene, but it is forever imprinted on my mind. The toilet. The floor. ALL FOUR walls. Being a good parent, I closed the door and cleaned up my son and got him settled back in bed before taking a picture of the carnage (as proof of my fatherly dedication in cleaning it up). Then, remembering a technique I had read about in descriptions of crime scene investigations, I soaked two cotton balls in English Leather and put them in my nose before entering the room for the cleanup operation. There I was, at one o'clock in the morning, on Easter Sunday, on my hands and knees with cotton swabs in my nose surrounded by puke. I started to laugh, because the only atlernative was to cry. There being no way to ever work this into an appropriate sermon illustration, I post this story here. And the picture? If you want to see it, you will have to ask.
Easter Sunday -- We all went to church. And it was a blessed Easter. And Jonathan was OK. But we didn't let him eat all the candy he collected in the afternoon.