The Only Reason I Notice Easter

Oh, Cadbury mini-eggs, why must you tempt me so with your crisp candy shell and perfectly-sized morsel of chocolate? Not for you the cloying sweetness of the “crème” egg or the dearth of substance that is a marshmallow rabbit. Even the smell when I open a bag – the latest of many – is a delightful promise of the treat to come. Whether robustly crunched or left atop the tongue to quietly melt, you are the perfect Easter candy.

While I mourn your scarcity, you’re only available a few weeks each year, I must give thanks for the sake of my waistline that this is the case.

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