Sunday, 24 April 2011


I could overwhelm you with my heart felt beliefs about Easter.

I could write a poem and post it on here about Easter.

I could sing you a song about Easter.

Instead, I decided to make a video of Roman opening his first ever Easter egg.

(Excuse my croaky voice, I have had a sore throat for about two weeks now and I'm slowly losing my voice.)

This is his second Easter but his first time with his own whole Easter egg.

When I was a kid there was no strict policing on Easter eggs that I seem to recall - you were given the eggs and gorged on them until you were sick - and in my case that happened a lot, because I was greedy and had no will power when it came to sweet 'treats' (is it really a treat when too much of the good stuff can cause Type 2 Diabetes?)

Buut I do remember one year; we got Cadbury's Creme Eggs every single year from my Granny and Granpa Kirk. Without fail. I loved this because Creme Eggs were my favourite of favourites. And let's face it every piece of confectionery was my favourite - I didn't discriminate. Well, this one year, my parents got the Creme Eggs early. Not wanting to release the goods until nearer Easter they kept them in a 'safe' cupboard (where little children wouldn't go prying, I assume.)

Well, one night, the Creme Eggs started calling out to them. And do you know what those little Creme Eggs were saying?


And so they did. It must have taken them a while to plough through 6x4 Creme Eggs (you do the calculations), but they were scoffed. We didn't get Creme Eggs that year.

As a parent I had my own Creme Egg Incident this year - minus the Creme Eggs.

Roman got his egg early, too, you see. And in this egg package was a bar of chocolate. As you may or may not know I have given up chocolate - I don't want Type 2 Diabetes, seriously, I am paranoid about this.

However, one night, it was shouting at me. Over and over again. And do you know what it was saying?


And well, it had been a long day where I'd missed at least two meals - I sometimes get so tired that lifting a fork is a great effort - and I felt like eating it. 

I split it with B (who got about 4 squares) and did I feel bad? A little bit. You see I was literally stealing candy from a baby*. 

And well, it never tasted so good ;).

*Roman disclaimer: I really have nothing to say for myself on this matter. I did a bad thing. I broke my chocolate fast. But let's be real here for a second, (and justify our wrongs) how long would it have taken one little boy to get through so much chocolate? Exactly. I rest my case.

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