It's Easter. The annual festival of chocolate. The pretty eggs above arrived yesterday, courtesy of C, filled with a Creme Egg, some Ferrero Rocher and in the large egg, a Chocolate Orange. But that wasn't all.
Aw. Look at that poor, lonely little rabbit.
Oh. It's ok. He has a little friend.
Wait a minute. Who's this?
It's Mummy Rabbit! Aw. Sweet.
Hold on. What's this I hear? The jingle of a little bell. The thump of chocolate feet approaching.
Who can it be?
It's Daddy Rabbit!
I think all the chocolate I have eaten in the last few days has sent me slightly mad! Ferrero Rocher are like crack cocaine for me. I know they're tacky. I know it's crappy chocolate, with about 2% cocoa solids. I don't care. I'm with 'His Excellency' on this one. The chocolate orange will have to be deposited in a lead box and buried a mile underground, so I can't hear it calling to me. The rabbits arrived gradually during the previous week. They are probably safe for a while. They are too cute to eat, with their whiskers and little red ribbons. But I know a day will come when C will find me, smeared in chocolate and surrounded by gold paper and some tiny little gold bells. It's sad being an addict. But a very happy, grateful addict.