A Tale of Unrequited Mini-Egg Love

As far as I can tell, the only way to buy milk chocolate Cadbury Mini-Eggs is in packages that are simply too big for someone like me. Someone who kinda has a problem sharing his candy. I’m a nice enough guy, but if I’m going to go kamikaze on one my rare, ill-advised sugar-cravings, I’m going to do it without any intention of sharing.

The way I figure it, if I’m going to cave in and nail an entire pizza I should do so when no one else is around so I don’t have to feel guilty when I don’t offer them a slice. If I’m going to buy a satchel of Chex Mix I’m going to do so when there’s no one else around so I can commit sodium-suicide alone. If I’m going to manhandle a bag of Cadbury Mini-Eggs I will bear their hellish sugar-rush all by myself. I will fall on that grenade. Slight guys can be heroes too.

I have an addictive personality. My goal is to eradicate anything near me that tastes good  as fast as possible. To make it go away. To destroy it so that it no longer exists and therefore can no longer continue to challenge my physique and/or peace of mind. Rationing comfort food out over a period of days or weeks simply can’t happen when you’re me.

Tasty treats, for me, are like Bilbo’s ring in Lord of the Rings, and the volcano at Mordor is my mouth. My stomach acids are the lava. Destroying the Ring is the only way to be free from its temptation, and so I eat my way through my obsessions regardless of the eventual side effects (lethargy, sugar crash, feeling completely gross). With this in mind, I follow a strict policy of consciously avoiding such “quests.” Should a bag of candy enter my life via some random gift-bag or care package I will reluctantly accept the challenge, but I will not seek adventure.

My original Easter-time craving, Cadbury Cream Eggs, were much easier to deal with. You could easily purchase them on an individual basis and so you could customize and personalize your level of temptation. You could buy just one or two, or you could by a whole four-pack. Whatever you want to handle. Get your fix, it’s over! But then came the day that I discovered, quite by accident, that Cadbury’s other “egg” product, the hard sugar-shell coated Mini-Eggs, are actually significantly more “bomb” than their bigger, gooier brethren. I’ve always known that the pleasure in eating a Cadbury Creme Egg owes as much to the deliciously awkward texture as it did to the actual flavor, I now I’d suddenly learned that Mini-Eggs, with their just-hard-enough-sugar-shell and just-soft-enough-chocolate-body, are a texture-lover’s dream come true! I fell in love. After that it was, and still is, all about the Mini-Eggs.

At least in theory.

If they came in Skittles-size bags we wouldn’t have a problem. I’d buy one bag and its contents would vanish before I’d even finished driving home. The bag would be gutted and dead and it wouldn’t be able to hurt me any longer. Perhaps I’d suffer a quick sugar spike, get a bit jittery, but a few hours later I will have returned to normal and the episode will be over.

However, Cadbury Mini-Eggs bags are massive! They remind me more of stone-filled pillowcases than bags of candy. At least the ones available in my neighborhood. In the Lord of the Rings analogy we’re talking a WHOLE RUCKSACK of One-Rings. That’s a lot of temptation. It’s enough sugar and chocolate to leave me crawling around my bedroom floor by the end of the day, beaten, broken, twitching like a junky, moaning, having visions of a huge furry Easter Bunny that promptly turns demonic the moment I reach out for its help.

I think for the past few years it’s been the same thing. When Easter comes around I tell myself I’ll “celebrate” by buying “a whole big bag” of Cadbury mini-eggs. I tell me I’ll let me go to town on them. And every year I go to the supermarket and I see the crinkly purple bags of Cadbury Mini-eggs stacked on their own shelf at the holiday end-cap dedicated, this month, to Easter-themed candies. But then I crouch down to the shelf, I pick the bag up and I feel its unexpected weight in my hand and my spirit breaks. My heart sinks. The glossy purple bag with yummy pink letters, drooping heavy and limp from my hesitating hand, feels more like a cumbersome sack of horse feed than something meant to satisfy a wee Easter-time craving.

“Too much,” I say out loud, not caring that it’s generally considered insane strange to talk to oneself in public. But if we’re continuing to roll with the Lord-of-the-Rings analogy, then I guess  at this moment I’m sort of more like Golum. “There’s just too damn many of them, Smeegle, just too many,” And I angrily slap the bag of horse food back down with the rest of its kind.

And so I don’t end up getting my one small bag of mini-eggs after all. I guess because I’m too obsessive and too sugar-selfish. It turns out I don’t have the right stuff. I can’t bear the burden of the One-Ring alone.

I am of the kingdom of men.

—-

Need more Cadbury Mini Egg Adventures? Check out the sequel to this post!

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12 Responses to A Tale of Unrequited Mini-Egg Love

  1. Hail the addictive personality. People who can just say no to anything bug me. And any time you use a L.O.R. analogy, you are doing things right. You have an award coming soon, I do believe.

  2. genesismeranda says:

    Cadbury mini eggs make my life during spring time.

  3. becca3416 says:

    Hilarious. I personally am addicted to sunflower seeds. I am a walking salt lick. Oh, and hey, I am nominating you for the liebster blog award 🙂 check it out in my post today 25andfly.wordpress.com

  4. cestlavie22 says:

    Ok so those are pretty amazing and here is a possible solution for you. Buy this massive bag, wait dont worry there is more! As soon as you get home break out little sandwich baggies and label them with all the people that you will be visiting for Easter. Ration out the candy into the little sandwich baggies making sure to make one for yourself. Once the bag is complete put away to gift sandwich bags and now you have a nice Easter gift and a small baggie all for yourself 🙂

    • Bill Carson says:

      What you suggest makes a lot of sense, but it will be very, very difficult to pull off. The minute I open that bag I sort of vanish in a quick Swish!, like Frodo when he puts on the Ring. I enter a dimension where I see only instant chocolate gratification. Next thing I know I’m rolling around on the floor moaning and twitching. But if I can time it just right, maybe I can transfer the eggs to their individual baggies before I vanish. It’ll definitely take the edge off. But then I might just eat the gift bags anyway.

  5. emma says:

    What a let down. I figured you’d go for two bags, you know, one for now and one just in case. I suggest two alternatives: go back to the Creme Eggs (oh, for a half dozen right now) or on a more healthy note, turn to Peeps! Wait, wait, they really are healthy if you only use them for scientific purposes. (Please Google “peeps” and look for the bizarre accounts of scientific experiments with these little darlings.) If you’re not interested in the pursuit of genius then just buy them anyway because no one can be dumb enough to actually eat them (even you), thus they really can be considered healthy.

    • Bill Carson says:

      Wow, I didn’t know that Peeps are actually healthy if you don’t eat them. But it makes perfect sense! Zero calories, zero sugar, zero fat. Great suggestion!

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