The Sader of the Lambs

Every year around Easter time my family does a Sader meal—it's like Passover with added communion and celebration of Jesus's fulfillment of, well, pretty much everything important ever. Part and parcel with this is the cooking of a lamb in delicious fashions, including citrus and other various things I don't know about because I don't know the first thing about cooking.

This is how I've known Easter since I was in middle school. As opposed to the stereotype I really don't understand. I know where the bunny and the eggs came from—as well as the time of the year it falls under. I guess this makes me weird, but to me Easter's a bit more important than candy, egg hunts, and the like.

My little sister thinks I should blog about how I punched myself in the face today. I've noticed it gets a lot more attention than the alternative. Maybe I should just make this a face-punch blog. But I won't. It is just a bit painful and shame-inducing.

Unfortunately, I don't have much else to ramble about. Talk to you tomorrow, folks.