You know the whole Easter chocolate bunny thing has gotten out of control when you’re considering buying one for your six-month-old baby who doesn’t even eat solids yet.
“We need to get Baby M an Easter basket,” said my husband a couple of days ago.
“Why?” I asked (I’m not the most sentimental mom). “She only drinks milk. She only plays with her toes.”
“Because then we can eat her chocolate,” I finished. “Good point.”
Yes, my husband and I were falling once again for the marketing machine that is Easter.
And no one, not even the Americans with their chocolate covered marshmallow eggs and hot pink Peeps, can compete with the Swiss when it comes to the consumption of Easter candy.
For one thing, the Swiss eat 12 kilos of chocolate per person, per year. For another, in Switzerland, Easter chocolate consumption begins in February.
As soon as the remaining two chocolate Santas and three reindeer are sold for 50% off, Swiss grocery stores can’t wait to stock the shelves with chocolate eggs, chocolate bunnies (which have suspiciously the same shape as the chocolate reindeer), and chocolate chicks.
Now it’s one thing to resist these Easter temptations during one shopping trip. Especially when it is still chocolate heart season.
But if you grocery shop like I do, a couple times a week, you can only look at those sad chocolate bunny eyes for about three weeks before giving in (please no one ever let me into a pet store).
Last year I held out pretty well. But right before Easter, I couldn’t take it anymore. I bought a huge bag of chocolate eggs and a two foot chocolate Easter bunny.
Needless to say, my husband and I had that bunny until July, when I finally hammered it into pieces for a cherry cake.
“Sorry, bunny,” I said, even though its ears were long gone. “But the average American only eats 4.5 kilos of chocolate a year. So I’m struggling to use you here.”
If I hadn’t blown the bunny to smithereens for the cake, it would probably still be around in time to celebrate this Easter. But alas, it’s not. So it’s time to buy another one - for Baby M’s basket, of course.