Chocolate will bloat you.

Easter this year was a little different than others.

We knew what we had in store from the get go because for some reason Mum hadn't done her usual routine of trying to pretend she hadn't bought us eggs.

Our ordinary Easter would go something like...

"I haven't bought you anything, you're too old" or "I haven't bought you anything, you never buy me eggs, so why should I buy you eggs". The second is a valid point, the first is just a load of bollocks. No one is ever too old for eggs, especially of the chocolate variety.

I obviously won the egg hunt this year because I'm older, wiser and know that Mum is quickly running out of hiding places to be creative with around the house.

The rest of the day was spent eating chocolate, feeling bloated, eating more chocolate, feeling guilty, eating Sunday lunch, feeling even more guilty and then eating more chocolate.

We also crammed a walk up the hills in there (dressed like a pikey) and some time for the boat race...

A relaxing Easter filled with everything it should be: family, chocolate, Yorkshire puddings and guilt.

...and while I type this the final bit of chocolate in the house is staring me down. It won't last the hour.

Hannah xx

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