Easter Eggs

It is of course mandatory to color some easter eggs before the easter bunny comes, no matter your creed or denomination, since the easter bunny knows no God, but the God of sweets and snacks. Which is the church all toddlers belong to anyways. So Karl and Fred turned our kitchen first into a coloring laboratory and then into a painting studio. Karl went all multimedia and tried every single pen, pencil and crayon on those fruits of some happy chickens' loins. Henri followed the whole procedure looking very critical, although he probably just thought about the right timing, when to ask for more milk and less about strange pagan rituals applied to christian holidays (that by the way is the fabulous blanket Maria, Paul's mom, sent us). Karl then assigned different eggs to different neighbors and had Fred do the writing chores. Easter's quite the thing around here. Quite dogmatically.
When Karl and I went shopping the nice lady from the cheese counter went all the way to the sausage counter to give Karl the customary slice of "Gelbwurst" you get as a kid, when visiting a butcher. A little girl looking jealously was treated as well. Which earned us the scolding of one of those mean and wealthy looking older Munich women, complaining: "Free meat during holy week?!" The little girl's dad went all apologetic and wimpy, going like they're protestant and they got into a whole discussion, if protestants don't take their easter as serious as the catholics. Too bad, because I was gearing up for some good Richard Dawkins style rant. Which would've probably gotten us banned from the Bavarian deli for eternity, so maybe it's better the wimpy dad apologized for the reformation. We all got into the spirit of the Holy Fahter later that afternoon though. The Vatican just compared the criticism of sexual abuse in the Catholic church's boarding schools making headlines in Europe these days to the persecution of jews just in time for Good Friday. So for our first Easter outing we took a walk to the fabulous playground at the Jewish Museum. Karl got to try out his "realy cool surfboard", which is the euphemism we use to distract him from the fact that his little brother just muscled him out of the Bugaboo.