Dear Grit Doctor, Please help save me from death by chocolate this Easter. It’s just so difficult not to over-eat. The kids already have so many eggs. They seem to be everywhere in the shops and and we aren’t even at the weekend yet. It’s out of control.
Grit Doctor: I can't. Because I, too, am dying under the weight of the assorted brown eggs that have invaded my home. I am already so sick of chocolate, or perhaps more accurately, so sick of myself nibbling on chocolate as if it were a condiment, a necessary accompaniment to every meal, snack, and cup of tea, that I am considering giving it up for good (after Sunday I mean – I don't want to be a spoil sport, nor do I want to waste good food, which would be most un-gritdoctorly).
I blame the kids. And their school. And the supermarkets. Easter bonnet making competition anyone? I’d never even heard of an Easter Bonnet until last week, but now I could get a degree in the Easter Bonnet Arts, such is the extent of my knowledge. And, no it doesn’t matter if you’re not interested, because, at this school, entering the competition is compulsory. Along with donating Easter Eggs to the school raffle and then being forced to purchase said raffle tickets at the school gates the following afternoon.
Aside from the obvious insanity of getting parents to spend a fiver or so on a couple of Easter eggs and then only selling the raffle tickets for a quid; the school’s purse might have considered it more prudent just to ask parents for a fiver as an Easter donation, saving everyone the hassle, and doing their bit towards fighting the country’s obesity epidemic in the process. But, no. These two events – bonnet making and raffle – have resulted in an unprecedented escalation of chocolate-related products entering our home. I say home, because there isn’t enough space in the fridge or biscuit tin for all these eggs, so the goods are scattered randomly around the house, some appearing underfoot, as though the Easter bunny – and all her sisters – have gone into premature labour. It doesn’t help that the kids seem to have birthday parties coming out of their ears at this time of year too, and, because it’s Easter there are even more chocolate-filled goody bags.
As for the supermarkets, anyone would think chocolate had replaced fruit and vegetables as our essential five-a-day staple. Every aisle around here is stocked to the nines with gigantic eggs, all of course on special offer, and two-for-one deals, making them eye-wateringly cheap as compared with a bag of curly kale.
And I don’t even like the taste ... much. But unless I eat my fair share, my husband’s waistline will suffer along with the children’s crazy sugar-induced wild ways. So I’m taking this one (gobbles another packet of mini eggs while writing column and drinking tea) for the team.
Look, I'm so sorry I can't be of more help. At least you know you are not alone. We are all suffering along with you. Part of me just thinks the way to deal with the Easter chocolate debacle is just to accept that for two weeks every year, it's going to be quite normal to gobble chocolate eggs before breakfast and have chocolate chasers with every cup of tea. Who knows, if you are lucky, you may completely overdo it as I've done and be sworn off the brown stuff for good. Or, just give chocolate up for Lent next year and encourage all members of the family to do the same.
On the subject of Lent, one of the twins gave up crisps, but when faced with his first temptation at a kid’s party just three days in, promptly swapped crisps for giving up sweets. Not all sweets you understand, just a very specific white topped haribo sweet, which he detests. Crafty.
His twin also fell at the first hurdle (gobbling crisps at the same kid's party) but when I asked him what he was going to give up instead, he told me, "praying to Jesus". Oh dear. I gave up Netflix which has proven to be a sacrifice of epic proportions. Not only have I needed Netflix more than the desert needs the rain since scarlet fever struck our household this past month, but Lent has unhappily coincided with the new series of House of Cards, which could be my favourite television series, like, ever.
My husband is really unhappy about this. I keep telling him he can watch it, but I think he feels too guilty. Probably for falling at the first hurdle – like his sons – in failing to stick to his Lenten resolutions.
The Grit Doctor says...
Lest we forget, suffering is what Easter is all about, and I for one cannot wait for it to be over. Not long now.