I used to dread Easter when I was a kid. Mom'd drag us all to mass at some retarded hour; I'd have to wear a stupid button-down to church. And we didn't even get to do the usual donuts thing we did on Sundays - we'd have to drive over to my aunt's to face down a house full of people who didn't speak the English.
It got better as I got older, I guess. Halfway through college I got out of taking communion, at least. The crowds thinned at my aunt's house. Then, after Mom passed, I managed to get out of going to church altogether. Hell, by the next Easter, I was tending bar, so my eternal 'I'm working' excuse managed to get me out of rolling out to north Jersey from NYC even though my brother made the yearly drive from Pittsburgh.
Nowadays, I don't see my family that much, even though we're all inside a five-hour driving radius. Haven't been to my aunt's since Christmas, and I can't seem to find two days to rub together to go visit my baby niece.
Today, I picked up eggs and soda water on the way home from work. Reheated a chicken thigh and ate it with rice for dinner.
Today wasn't Easter.
It was just a day.
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