Easter Madness

Photo credit: freeimages.co.uk

Darrel Lea is packed. It’s the Thursday before Easter and I think the entire annual aid budget for a Third World Nation is being spent on chocolate.

First, I try to get into Darrel Lea through people lining up to buy their eggs. Then, overwhelmed by pressing bodies and chocolate cravings, I try to get out of Darrel Lea (without eggs).

That isn’t going to happen in a hurry. I say a gentle excuse-me to a lady in the line blocking my exit strategy. She doesn’t move forward or backward to let me pass. She just stares studiously ahead with a set jaw and an armful of moulded chocolate.

“Excuse Me,” I say, slightly louder. No response. I want to put my face very close to that determined jaw and say in a Clint Eastwood make-my-day voice, “I know you can see me and I know you can hear me…” But I vowed to give up egg-rage for Lent.

Instead, I gently nudge her toward the counter, hit the gap like a footy pro and flee through the egg-laden hordes.

I’m not sure if it’s age, cynicism or a lightly-oaked version of both, but I’ve completely lost the Easter – and Christmas – spirit.

The only thing that keeps me hanging in there is a penchant for warm Christmas pudding with lashings of custard, and smooth Swiss chocolate Easter eggs.

My children think I’m terribly jaded and unromantic. I don’t see their point. Okay, the Christmas tree is rather bedraggled. It’s a relic of their fading childhood and those bygone days when Christmas trees were genuine fake green.

They want to know when I’m getting married to their step-dad, although every time we mention a date now they just laugh. Which is understandable, I guess.

We’ve made a date every year for thirteen years. But just one look at those wedding buffet prices and the decision is difficult – skiing in the Dolomites, walking the Annapurna Trail… or a wedding. Gee, let me think.

Clearly, I don’t have an issue with romantic sunrises or snow-bound mountain lodges. It’s more a rejection of traditional events designed to bolster the flagging retail sector. From birthdays, weddings and christenings to Christmas, Mother’s Day and every other present-buying celebration, we are sucked into a never-ending purchasing cycle.

The only reason no-one has come up with ‘Kid’s Day’ is because there isn’t a parent out there who’d be fooled (or is there?). It’s Kids Day every day of the year. Even on Mother’s Day they ask me what I want, help me choose it, then steer me to the counter to hand over my own credit card.

Cynical? Who, me? Brand me what you like. I’m still going to pass on the whole faux celebration gig. Don’t buy me anything. What I really want is great company, conversation and laughter – oh, and to watch the sunrise over Machi Picchu sometime soon.

That’s it in a (chocolate) eggshell really.

elle x