Eggspensive

When did Easter becomes commercialised?

As a child, Easter Sunday I'd join my parents for breakfast - boiled eggs, or googy eggs as we called them in my house. Invariably I'd crack mine to discover an empty shell, dad already having eaten one and turned it upside down as a joke. One particular Easter my parents prepped an egg hunt in our garden - I don't recall how many there were, or even if the dog found more than me, but I had fun.

Roll on a few decades, and the expectations of Easter are considerably heightened. I've just been to do the Easter shop and it was eggspensive.

First off, there's the school gifts. Each of my children has three class teachers, and there's an hierarchy to be considered: form tutor, classroom assistant and support tutor. Then there's headteachers and key staff. I do draw the line at the gardeners, dinner ladies and cleaners - it's not that I don't appreciate the work they do to feed my daughters every school day and keep the school looking so beautiful, but there's an army of them and it's a ridiculous idea.

Then there's the family gifts. Something special for immediate relations, that appeals to their individual personalities and wishes. And the girls, for whom I have always planned an Easter hunt, but filled with goodies that will keep them entertained through the long, looooonnng weeks of holiday as well as the eponymous chocolate. Every year, they receive so many eggs that I have to rearrange our treat cupboard to fit them all in. And there's at least one that survives 'til next year, usually because I've forgotten it's there. Always a bonus when I'm roaming the house with only insomnia for company.

Easter cards next, both secular and non-secular, depending on the intended recipient. Arm ache from long-hand, and a fortune for the Queen's head to grace the envelopes as they pass through the Royal Mail. Just to be displayed for a couple of days before being recycled. And I don't recall cards being in the bible now I come to think of it.

Yesterday was Easter Service for micro-me. Chaplain opened proceedings armed with a donkey and an Easter Egg, to remind us what it's all about. Uproar from the audience when he sought the answers to the reasons behind the celebrations, by exploring what Easter eggs symbolise, what comes out of them. We eventually reached the conclusion that it's new life, new beginnings, but answers ranged from chocolate, sweets and toys before we got there. I guess that's what happens when you work with children.

With school finishing today, it's going to be a crazy couple of weeks keeping the girls entertained, busy and above all, apart. If the weather deteriorates, it'll be even worse. At least my husband has a long weekend off work, so I'll have my wing-man to rely on.

Easter Sunday dinner is at ours this year, so I'll be spending time and money to create a feast for the family that won't include lambs, chickens or eggs - that seems just a little too harsh and anti-Easter for the mini-mes to witness.

Easter Monday will be a family walk through our local ancient woods, probably with micro-me complaining that her legs hurt and me relying on my asthma pump to get me through the trek.

Maundy Thursday could well see me queuing by the local church in the hope of some alms to subsidise my bank account after the Easter shop.

Good Friday, I just hope no one will get too cross.

Happy Easter - I hope it's cracking!