I’m just going to come right out and say it. I don’t get it. I don’t understand why you are all so obsessed with Cadbury Creme Eggs.
They are not delicious. They are sickly sweet, and gooey and weird. The last time I tried to eat one I gagged.
I dread the three-odd months they dominate the chocolate aisle at the supermarket because there’s a real expectation that I should want to eat them.
I don’t.
Today I learned that you all love them so much they are the number one pick on the Sportsbet top selling Easter egg market (that such a thing exists is a whole other story).
They are more popular than Lindt gold bunnies because you are a pack of monsters.
When I was little I was allergic to dairy. It gave me sinus problems and ear infections. As a result, the first time my grandmother fed me vanilla ice cream I spat it back at her disgusted.
My favourite ice cream was a tofu boysenberry swirl flavour, and I voluntarily consumed large amounts of soy milk (preferably warmed up, with a little bit of honey in it).
When I was five, my mum and I wrote an angry letter to Cadbury because they changed the Old Gold recipe so that it was no longer dairy free. My one chocolate option was closed off, and I was devastated.
I tell you this sad tale of childhood deprivation because the hardest time of year for tiny-allergic-SJ was Easter. All that chocolate. All those eggs.
Forbidden.
And the jewel in the crown of coveted off-limit eggs was the Creme Egg. It had sucked me in. I saw the ads with the “don’t get caught” song and I watched my peers happily stuffing their faces and I wanted that sweet sweet chocolatey goop for myself.