Good Friday + My Mum = Crazy
It’s only recently that I’ve fully become to appreciate the extent of my Mothers inherent craziness. This has come to light as I discuss old family Easter traditions with friends and colleagues.
Good Friday – The day that for religious people, symbolises the death of Jesus and for non-religious people, symbolises a damn fine time.
Growing up, Good Friday symbolised a day where strict food guidelines (enforced by my nutcase of a mother) were adhered to by my sibling and I, unless we wanted to deal with the wrath that was our mothers screeching as she bellowed that we were getting NO easter eggs. She would then hide the ones already purchased before consuming them after we had all gone to bed I’m guessing.
So the strict food guidelines ruled that we were to eat NOTHING but fish and (wait for it) Hot Cross Buns.
No veggies. No fruit. No nothing. Except fish and buns.
So I write this while shovelling down leftover noodles and smugly think of my father currently consuming yet another bloody hot cross bun for the fifth time today, as they really aren’t that filling and who really wants to eat fish for breakfast (or at all in my opinion).
Does your family have any weird traditions?