I remember one Easter growing up very specifically. We sat down to eat dinner together as a family, and it was a meal that none of us kids particularly liked. As we ate, my parents left for the Easter service at church, leaving us alone at home. We were old enough to fend for ourselves, but not old enough to make wise decisions yet. Since it was a dinner we didn’t like, we conspired to throw out and hide our food so we wouldn’t have to eat it.