Published in On Our Selection News May 1, 2014

We can learn a lot from the way we consume easter eggs.

Clearly foods associated with Easter have had a massive impact on me as a person, shaping the way in which I see the world. Perhaps because they are already metaphors in their own rights (albeit the most fattening metaphor I have ever come into contact with), but I have had somewhat of an epiphany after un- packing/neurotically over-thinking my approach to Easter eggs.

In the weeks since that generous mammal made his/her rounds delivering cavities and slightly larger hips thinly veiled by coloured foil, I have been in a state of psychological warfare with myself. A constant and very heated debate rages inside me – to eat or not to eat? While this bunny (or contracted bilby) delivered what could be described as “big girl Easter” – a bunch of flowers and a chocolate small bunny (it was like Valentines’ Day without the annoying Facebook statuses about being showered with gifts or not needing a man to validate one’s existence) – I still managed to end up with far too much chocolate than I could handle. With four days of pyjama time, being in the presence of that much cocoa solids was dangerous. I managed to keep it down to a few mini eggs and the odd hot cross bun, but now that the weekend is over, I realised that I have made a terrible mistake. The Easter long weekend is sacred for many reasons, and one of those reasons is that it is a grace period when eating a hollow oval of chocolate the size of your head is justifiable. But now I am struggling to find excuses to eat one measly 25gram egg. I have one bunny on my bedside table which stares at me, mocking me. As soon as I wake up and just before I go to sleep, I am faced with the haunting notion that I let the chance to enjoy it guilt-free slip through my fingers. And I have to live with that.

You see, Easter eggs are like life opportunities. We all know what happens when you leave something too late. Like in life, there are a number of consequences of putting off eating your Easter eggs and/or novelty shaped chocolate statues.

Depending on your loving situation and the current climate, the outcomes are rarely great. The first is that said foil-wrapped confection is at risk of melting. If you put off the shiny opportunity for happiness for too long, it can dissolve in front of your eyes, leaving no chance of resurrection but a dark stain on your soul (or car seat) to remind you of what you let slip. There is also a real danger of someone else, usually a younger sibling, coming along and eating it. Like the well-dressed, savagely ambitious youth who are growing up to steal our jobs and probably our women too, your little sister is willing to get the opportunity you missed and devour it with a sinister glee. You might think you’re smarter than that and keep your chocolate loot in a cool place away from prying hands, but time is not on your side. A chance that has been pushed to the sidelines for too long can turn to a clump of white, powdery disappointment in your mouth. Stale chocolate (especially the Lindt kind) can be just as soul crushing. So in light of these revelations, I have decided not to put off until tomorrow what I can do today and grab life by the horns – with my face. That’s right, I am eating that bunny.