Thursday, March 24, 2016

Happy Easter Leftovers!

From 2013, thought I'd post this today so you have Holy Thursday (to have a good meal), Good Friday (for guilt), Holy Saturday (what else are they going to call it?  "Easter Halftime"?), and Easter Sunday (which is...Sunday) to mull over.  You can also have Easter Monday to casually read this as you're free-basing Peeps and Cadbury Eggs after you call in sick to work.  After Monday, though, Penwasser Place goes into hibernation a tad until the A-Z Challenge which starts on the 1st.  Enjoy.  Or not.  I've got some chocolate bunnies to eat.

I don't mean that in a dirty way. 

Begin the repost....NOW!
NOTE:  Even this line is a repost.

FROM THE PROPRIETOR:  The reader is cautioned that the below is a repeat of a repeat of a repeat ("My GOD, Penwasser, how many times are you going to make us read this crap!?").  Since it's late and I have a headache and Mrs. Penwasser is almost asleep, I don't have a lot of time on my hands (Meaning: if I don't hurry and Mrs. Penwasser actually falls asleep, all I'll have are my hands).  So, yeah, you've read this before.  But, I have read it again and...maybe...I put in some new lines.  Or not.  Mrs. P is looking mighty sleepy, ya know.  So, sit back and enjoy (even that line is recycled!).  And, if you're so inclined to comment, please feel free to recycle your comment from last year.


Begin the repost...NOW!:

  For the sharp-eyed, this is a repeat of my repeat of my Easter post from last year.
  Sorry, this is pretty long, but sit back and enjoy.  Or skim though it and pick out something innocuous upon which to comment.  Then it'll make it seem as if you took the entire time to read with no one the wiser.


Starring the Son of God, Moses, and Chocolate Bunny Heads
 Even though the countdown to Easter Sunday is supposed to start after Ash Wednesday, it really begins when unsold chocolate Cupids at Wal-Mart are exchanged for countless herds of chocolate rabbits.
  It’s the most sacred of Christian holidays...which is somehow associated with bunnies, ducks, and chicks.  In fact, I was amazed at how happy those little animals seemed, considering that giving baby ducks and chickens to my brothers and I was tantamount to a death sentence. 

"If you want really good luck,
it's not my foot you have to rub.
Also, kiddies, after Easter,
I plan on getting a job at Subway.
I hear there's an opening."
    I've always been mystified as to exactly when Easter Sunday falls.      
    Based on the last full moon during leap year when the vernal equinox is on a Wednesday and the moon is in its summer house and Jupiter aligns with Mars, I always knew exactly when it was: March or April. 
    In any event, Easter was a glorious time of year, which started off with the traditional coloring of the Easter Eggs.
    Beginning with stern admonitions from my father to make sure we didn’t get dye all over the $20 table he bought at Railroad Salvage, our dipping-of-hen-fruit-in-colored-vinegar-water rituals started out serenely enough.  Until they degenerated into sloppy free-for-alls where we got more dye on each other than on the hard-boiled eggs.

"Man, this blows!
Glad we don't have to do 

this crap for Christmas.  
But, we can take off our shirts. 
Then beat the women."
    Satisfied with our work (and out of dye), we then seeded our garish prizes throughout the house in preparation for a family hunt the next day.  Nothing was off-limits as we deposited eggs in the most obscure places, all the while listening to our father boast he'd find the most eggs and make the finest egg salad in all the land.

    Unfortunately, nobody kept track of how many eggs were hidden or where they were laid.  This resulted in an incomplete tally, but we didn’t mind.  We had loads of other goodies with which to stuff ourselves.

    No worries.  Until our dog found an especially pungent bearded egg behind the stereo on Labor Day.   

    Eggs scattered, our excitement reached fever pitch as we knew that, come the dawn, we’d tumble down the stairs to see what the Easter Bunny had brought us.  A sort of off-season reenactment of the Christmas frenzy, Easter morn was a candy gorge-fest which propelled us into a frenetic sugar buzz not seen since December 25th.

"Sure, Santa, gets a sleigh and reindeer.
But, I get to sodomize the family pet."
    I never figured out the Easter Bunny’s deal.  Unlike Santa Claus, who slid his chubby keister down a chimney, Mr. Bunny seemed content with your basic, garden-variety breaking and entering.  

    We never left cookies and milk  and we never tried to stay awake to watch him deliver our presents.  Like the milkman, we just figured he’d automatically come through.

    Hmm, come to think of it, did that mean we didn’t trust Santa, considering we always wanted to remain awake to see him place our toys under the tree?  But, I digress...

    Speaking of a tree, the occasion of Easter didn’t offer up a central location for the rabbit to dump his loot.  I guess my parents were content to let him drop them wherever he found room.

"You mean I don't have to go to Syria?
Thank Christ!  No pun intended."
    As far as Easter baskets went, he had quite a haul to carry.  The good news is that he only had to worry about Christian kids unlike Santa, who pretty much had the whole shebang.  Except the Middle East.  And possibly the Mormons.

    My point is that, while Jolly Saint Nick had a reindeer-drawn sleigh, what’d the Easter Bunny have?  That’s right-nothing.  He couldn’t even rent a Pacer, so he had to haul everything around on his back.

    No wonder he never went “Ho! Ho! Ho!”

    Our baskets overflowed with all manner of sweets.  Sure, there were the proverbial candy Easter eggs (also known as chocolate “footballs” at Christmas) and jelly beans, but my favorite had to be the chocolate bunnies.

Even little Jeffy Dahmer loved Easter
    What kid didn’t delight in first lopping off the hapless candy rabbit’s ears-“Look, Mom, a squirrel!”?  This confectionery mutilation was then followed by the rabbit’s ritual decapitation, leaving only a headless lump.  What a sad end for a creature whose only crime was being placed in a drugstore candy aisle a few days before.

    I remember being disappointed that my bunnies were hollow.  I would have much preferred they’d be solid, although I probably would have broken my teeth gnawing on a fifteen pound hunk of chocolate.  But, on the bright side, I’d have had enough sugar to keep me buzzing until Columbus Day.

4 out of 5 dentists
recommend Peeps
    Licking our lips as we finished savaging our Brer Rabbits (or the equally delicious Lucky Ducks), we then turned our attention to little chocolate-covered rabbit/duck/chick marshmallows and the yellow sugar balls known as Peeps.  
  As we sadly hit the bottom of our baskets, we knew exactly what to do with the black licorice jelly beans and candy-coated almonds:  fling them at our little brother, Gary.
  Our mouths ringed in melted chocolate, our teeth encrusted with Peeps detritus, and our vision blurred, we blearily glanced at the clock above the television.  Wow, not even eight o’clock.

  In other words, as our mother cheerfully announced from the kitchen, “Okay, kids, time for church!”

  The real reason for the day, we dutifully trooped off-usually through snow-to the nine o’clock Mass at Saint Stanislaus.
  It was here we came crashing down from our candy rush as we struggled to stay awake during Father Karl’s sermon, Peter Cottontail, Satan With Cottonballs.  The good news is this was one of the two times (the other being Christmas) that Mom was successful in forcing our father into church.

"Once this is over, 
I'm going to totally rock 
that Lily Munster gig."
    Usually, he was content to watch The Ten Commandments or Ben Hur and call it even.
NOTE:  The Ten Commandments pulled double-duty as it was good for Easter and Passover.  That Cecil B. DeMille was a marketing genius!
    As he liked to say, “I used to be a practicing Catholic, but I got good at it.  The ‘Lord’ doesn’t need me anymore."

  Even so, I bet the Lord would have still wanted him to put on some pants while watching TV.

    After an hour’s worth of guilt, we headed back home to finish off any candy we had so carelessly missed earlier that morning.

    Mom, meanwhile, began intense preparations for the Easter “feast.”

    For some reason, ham was always the meat of choice to celebrate Easter.  Unlike the pterodactyl-sized turkey we devoured at Christmas, it seemed appropriate to give equal time to eating the flesh of another barnyard animal.
"No, you tell the old lady
with the babushka that this isn't her bus stop."
  Of course, it could also have been a subconscious “up yours!” to our Jewish friends.      

  But, I thought it had more to do with the fact that my mother didn’t have to defrost a ham for three days, pull its gizzards out, stuff any available cavity she found with Wonder Bread, and start cooking it before the sun came up.

    After all, that was only for Thanksgiving and Christmas.

    No, cooking ham and potatoes from a box was a whole lot easier.  In fact, it wasn’t until I grew up that I realized ham didn’t even come in a can.

"Whaddya mean, I'm Jewish? 
I thought I was Catholic. 
This is Easter, isn't it?"
    Eventually, the joy which is Easter drew to a close.  As we sat transfixed by the litter of candy corpses and the sight of Charlton Heston shoving a stick at the Red Sea, a sad thought struck us like a lightning bolt from the blue:

    No more chocolate bunnies for another year.     

    Whew.  Thank goodness for Halloween.

Happy Easter!


  1. Ahhhh yes..this is the time when Christ died on the cross whenever the moonrise Dem in...I never got that really. Oh how I miss watching the 10 Commandments, Ben Hur and Easter parade. We, also bid, the eggs and rebid them all day long. There was always one we missed u til summer came and the egg baked in the us leaving an aroma that Hades would love.

    1. So many Easter memories....
      Now that my kids are grown and there are no grandkids on the horizon yet (hallelujah), I may just sleep in Sunday and have an egg casserole.
      Yep, crazy times at the Penwasser house.

  2. My understanding is that repeats are the American way. Effectively some posts in your blog have entered syndication, doomed to be repeated forever.

    1. Syndication? That's pretty funny. I may use that.

  3. I am currently in a sugar coma (and I like the black jelly beans) It was easy to find the dyed eggs on snow. I'm headed to North Wales today- hope the Easter bunny can find me at my Dad's. Have a Happy Easter and rest for April A to Z.

    1. Supposed to be a fairly nice weekend. Rain tomorrow (fitting perhaps), but Saturday and Sunday will be okay. Safe trip!

  4. I never did understand the bunny-egg combo, Al. But original sinning entices me.

    1. Had something to do with the Miracle of Faith.
      Or Madison Avenue.

    2. Oh good, because I heard that Easter was cancelled this year. You know why? They couldn't find the body.

  5. lol ham must not want to be left out and let those turkeys have all the fun. Easter is rather meh now that I'm older, was fun though as a kid.

    1. For Easter this year? Sleep in and eat egg casserole when I get up at the crack of noon.
      Yeah, I'm a madman.

  6. I always wonder why they play the Ten Commandments on Easter when it has nothing to do with Jesus or Easter.

    1. I have ALWAYS wondered the same thing!

    2. I think it's the same reason Safeway puts the kosher for Passover horseradish next to the potato latke mix for Hanukkah: stupid people.

  7. This is the first year we haven't colored twenty-six years. Wow. Twenty-six years. Where did the time go? *sigh* But at least I'm not yelling at my almost grown kids not to get the dye on the table, right?

    1. We gave that up a few years ago. Although...I do miss the egg salad sandwiches.

  8. I was covering Children's ministry till they got a replacement and the lessons for this month were on Moses and the Plagues...people, come one, it's Easter...can't we get that right? Ha ha ha. I found out they recycled them and so the dates won't line up.

    Happy Easter, Al, my pal!

    1. Maybe you should try figs if dates don't work?
      "Moses and the Plagues." Sounds like a Progressive 80s rock group.
      Happy Easter back at'cha!

  9. Replies
    1. I rose at eight o'clock and had breakfast casserole.