Easter "Candy"

Sigh...Photo by Ginnerobot

Valentine’s Day, Easter, and Christmas form a holy trinity of holidays where I gorge myself on candy. Whether it’s Dove chocolates that predict my future (as seen in my Valentine’s Day with Christina Aguilera) or the jaunty candy cane filled with Hershey kisses (time better-off undocumented), I am guaranteed to be sugared out and ready to party before 10am.

But since age 11, Easter has been a cautionary tale. That’s when I became the Drew Barrymore of Cadbury Creme Eggs. The cream, with its orange-food-dye-as-yolk center, flowed from the cracked chocolate shell down my throat faster than booger sugar up a supermodel’s nose.

Even my mom, a lifelong purveyor of the Hershey’s assortment packs, was worried. She tried to cut me back to one a day, but the only thing that stopped my rampage was an unflattering picture. Under a canopy of trees, I stood in an enormous polo shirt, clutching my Jack Russell Terrier against my giant pink-swathed belly. He looked like my afternoon snack. After that, I went cold turkey. By next year, I had the wherewithal to pop just one a day.

While I’ll eat two cream eggs for the Easter Bunny’s birthday, I always remember the slippery slope of having one before bed for the entire month.

Q: What's your Easter chocolate vice?