Reggolections of Easter

This year, I traded in my Easter bonnet for a mask.

Sans measles, 1 yr. later

Not that I've worn many bonnets since my childhood. In my early days, hats were a cherished ritual, along with the pretty dresses that we'd wear to Easter mass. sashaying down the aisle like pastel butterflies. 

Afterward, we'd stand in the backyard and squint into the sun, and my mother snapped our photo for posterity. (She'd read in the Kodak manual that the photographer should stand with his/her back to the sun so the subjects' faces wouldn't be in shadow.)

German measles were my rotten-egg-of-a-surprise one Easter morning. I was five. If I'm recalling correctly, I still did the Easter egg hunt. But the goodies in my basket would have to wait. My mom, who insisted on returning our baskets to the attic the day after, assembled my treats and placed them in a cigar box. 

My next-in-line sister and I had bunk beds (I was on the bottom bunk), and we each had a small bookshelf as the headboard. That's where I kept the goods, suspiciously eying any sibling who came too close.

Time, orangy St. Joseph Children's Aspirin and calamine lotion took care of the measles. But there was no Easter bonnet that year. 

I wonder if hats will ever make a comeback. Once a cherished accessory, and a hallmark of Jackie Kennedy's wardrobe, they've pretty much disappeared.

I can imagine today's generation asking, "What's an Easter bonnet?"

One more thing that dates me. 

Oh, well. at least I'm getting dates...