Easter Sunday. Last year, in an attempt to be festive, I ate a goose egg. It tasted nice; but you can eat too much egg. To say the least, this range of prehistoric ovum at the Natural History Museum failed to whet my appetite.Neither would I like to eat rabbit, which is a Maltese tradition and which my mother used to plate for us every year on this occasion. It seemed, coincidentally, that our pet bunnies routinely came down with an ear infection every spring and died.
Neither would I prefer lamb. Two times unlucky with food poisoning from the meat last year is enough to develop a life-long aversion.
Instead, I think I'll settle for a block of chocolate. What's the worst it could do but give me a sugar high and resurrect my endorphin levels for a little while...
