Easter is an odd holiday for me, in an amusing way. Not being of religious faith, I’m left with a month of musings at the grocery end caps in viewing demented looking foil-wrapped chocolate bunnies and sugar-coated marshmallows in the form of baby birds. There is simply something wrong about taking pleasure out of biting the head off a bunny or a chick, regardless of what they are made of.
As a child, I had a hard time of it… I want the chocolate, but I don’t want to kill the bunny! Now that I’m older, I find myself with a similar dilemma, as the chocolate bunnies I pick up tend to be of the fancier nature. In fact, works of art. It seems a shame to eat them.