I think I skipped over a day here. I’m totally lost. A no refined sugar diet for the last 44 days is confounding me. On the plus side, only today and tomorrow to get through before I have a full on binge-fest (I feel very 90s calling it that. Very Bridget Jones).
One of my biggest plans for tomorrow is to put on my Sunday best and face the delicate and time-consuming task of choosing an Easter egg. I haven’t ever bought myself an Easter egg, I don’t think. And gone are the days of being given, well any really. When I was little, my brother and I would, every year and without fail, become embroiled in some sort of sibling rivalry, fight-to-the-death, about who had the most chocolate eggs and whether you could make them last until July. Chocolate eggs, when you’re 8 years old, are a major indicator of popularity. (Though 8 year olds, unsurprisingly, don’t give that much consideration to how many chocolate eggs their economically drained parents have had to purchase as a mutual exchange between all the thousands of friends they have at school, at Brownies, at ballet class and at church in order to get given eggs in return so that their daughter can beat their son in the popularity game of life. This exchange, now that I think about it, seems like some kind of confectionery-gangster bribery racket).
I very much enjoyed a massive “HA! I got more than you” laugh in the face of my smaller, farting, partner-in-crime.
Though consequently, I did end up being the fat kid of the family…but chocolate.
You would have thought, given that Easter eggs start making an appearance sometime around October these days, I would have had ample time with which to seek out the right one for me. But seeing as how I gave up all that stuff all those many days ago, I have very much avoided making eye contact with the seasonal aisle (and the biscuit aisle, and the sweets aisle, and pretty much the entire bakery section) so I don’t really know what I want, or what’s even there. (Total lie: I am well aware of the entire back wall of Asda, redecorated in purple foil and cardboard like a shrine to Cadburys!)
I could go all glam and splurdge on a Hotel Chocolat egg. I could go middle-of-the-road-but-still-snootier-than-thou Thornton’s. I could spend all this same money and buy A THOUSAND eggs eating Kinnerton (a pretty enormous confectionary company you’ve probably never heard of) but then I would end up with Shopkins and Power Rangers cheap-as-chips (mmm chips!) sick tasting chocolate, although then I’ll definitely have more Easter eggs than my brother (competition still stands, even in our 30s!) but who really wants to eat chocolate that tastes a little bit of vom?
I don’t like gimmicky eggs with mugs, because then I’m left with a crappy mug I don’t want (I’m picky about the mugs in my cupboard!). I don’t want white chocolate, because despite the fact that I like it, have you ever noticed that it can really burn your throat? And I fear that, because of my abstinence, I might actually make myself really sick if I get something too OTT, DYKWIM?
What would Jesus do? I mean, after being the instigator of Lent, surely he face the same dilemma?
❤ Ellen xxx
Days until Easter: 3
Days until Bridget Jones binge-fest: 2
Days until ultimate Easter Egg shopping: 1