Having resigned myself to serving the lousy cupcakes on Sunday morning, Brian was kind enough to help me carve out just enough time for a half hour nap before leaving later that evening to go to a friend’s house. Again, I probably should’ve taken the nap pre-cupcakes. Oh well. Such is life.
We had been invited to my friend Becca’s house to participate in a Passover dinner. So, to recap, on the Saturday before Easter, we cooked lunch for the in-laws, spent some wonderful time with them helping Bennett open his Easter goodies, baked five dozen miserable cupcakes and then packed up to go celebrate our first Passover.
We had a wonderful time! Simply wonderful. And hilarious. And interesting. And delicious. And, being that this particular Passover was structured to include a celebration of Christ, Brian and I were quite encouraged by the whole thing.
It was close to midnight before we wrapped up. Brian and I crept upstairs to get our sleeping baby and all the gear that comes with him. The crowd downstairs noticed our hushed tones and the fact that we were managing such careful tiptoeing that even Elmer Fudd would have been proud. Everyone else followed suit knowing that the last thing we wanted was for Bennett to wake up and think that it was morning.
No, Bennett! Mommy and Daddy need a little sleep!
The neighborhood was still, was quiet. Bennett was happily snoozing to the clickity-clack of my heels on the sidewalk as we made our way to the minivan. He was happily snoozing, that is, until Brian took the key out of his pocket and hit the alarm button.
BAHH BAHH BAHH BAHH BAHH BAHH BAHH BAHH
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” I exclaimed while scrambling to grab the keys and push the red button.
And, yes, in case you’re wondering, Bennett sure did wake up. Suuuuuuuure did. Mmmhmmm.