I had purchased a lovely chocolate bunny for Easter. He is solid chocolate and hand-made. He looks fantastic. I brought him in to the office so he wouldn’t melt in my car. He was sitting happily in his little bag all excited that he would be fulfilling his purpose in life and be eaten on Easter Sunday. Life was good. Then, she came. She came into the office, asked to see the chocolate bunny. She took him out of the bag. Then she did the unthinkable. She read the Nutritional Label on the bunny. I screamed "NOOOooooooo!" but it was too late. She was reading it out loud. "Wow, 250 calories a serving. 9 servers per container (bunny)."
Sigh. I asked: Why does the bunny even have a nutritional label? There is no nutrition in a chocolate bunny! There isn’t meant to be any notional value at all in Mr. Bunny. I am still going to eat him. All of him. All 2,250 calories of him. Perhaps not alone, but I’m going to eat him. It is his destiny.