Easter was, admittedly, eons ago. Nonetheless, I can provide (horribly belated) photo documentation that we joyfully celebrated our Savior's resurrection, competitively hunted eggs, and frolicked in the holiday fun with good friends.

At first, she was definitely into quality over quantity, and by "quality", of course I mean only pink and purple eggs. I desperately tried to steer her to the golden eggs, which could be exchanged for a valuable gift, but she wasn't interested. Why settle for gold when there are pink ones out there? Who cares if the coveted pink eggs are filled with choking hazards trinkets and mostly melted candy?

Not pink? Not a keeper.

This is concentration. Or obstipation.

The best Easter friends pull your wagon.

And let you pull theirs.

They give the best hugs.

And make the silliest of faces.

And they empathize when your last cupcake is no more.

And they forgive you for taking a month and a half to write your Easter post.

Happy Easter.