Baby H. was very excited and happy that the Easter Bunny brought them something, especially since in this household, celebrating Easter just means you get some chocolate and doesn't mean you have to get dressed up and go to church.
And it certainly doesn't mean that you have to go sit on some work release inmate wearing a terrifying costume. Seriously, how do we not grow up with complexes when our parents do this kind of shit to us? Of course, I actually look like I'm fine with what's happening in this picture. Probably because by this time, I'm 5 in this picture if that '79 indicates the year, I figure that it really can't get any worse.