I am not going to comment on the relative value of giving your children actual Easter chocolate versus faux peeps made of yellow colored pressed quinoa.

I am going to presume for the purposes of this bit that you are on the spectrum of normal and will allow your kids some sugar fat and carbs. Like mine, yours will indulge in the joys of bunnies and questionably filled gooey things.

So how do you get a little guilt free happiness of your own? You will, of course, get away with small thievery of mini eggs and peeps. Hell, if you are smart, you craftily dig the goop out of the bottom of a Cadbury Easter Cream egg and avoid getting caught by perfectly replicating the fold of the foil.

(If you don’t know how to do that yet, you are a rank amateur. How the hell do you deal with Halloween???)

Anyway, honesty is the best policy when it comes to undisguisable parental chocolate interference  Case in point: Bunny ears. When you eat them, you will get busted. 

So how you do you deal with those sad eyes and shocked faces of your offspring as they gape at their molested Lindt Gold Bunny?

This is the opportune time to teach your youngsters about taxation. You explain that as the leadership council of the house, you have decreed that each bunny must be reduced by the percentage factor exactly equivalent to two ears. This fee covers the infrastructure services they enjoy as residents of your house. Sewer, water and mini vans have to be paid for.

You will know when you have reached parenting level “grand master” when the children bring you all their bunny ears up front right on Easter morning. Their offering is unquestioning. Now they fully understand what all future paydays will feel like as the Government lops off their share before it even hits their bank account.

You are welcome. Now wipe your face, you have a chocolate stain on your chin.



Our Editor-in-Chief Magnolia Ripkin is sort of like your mouthy Aunt who drinks too much and tells you how to run your life, except funny... well mostly funny... like a cold glass of water in the face. She writes a flagrantly offensive blog at Magnolia Ripkin Advice Blog answering pressing questions about business, personal development, parenting, heck even the bedroom isn't safe. She is the Editor in Chief at BluntMoms. Other places to find her: Huffington Post, The Mighty and Modern Loss. You can also check her out in two amazing compendiums of bloggers who are published in “I Just Want To Be Alone.” And most recently, Martinis and Motherhood, Tales of Wonder, Woe and WTF


  1. A friend of mine introduced me to that concept and applies it to everything including donuts, chocolates from grandma and ice cream cones. He calls it the Daddy Tax. 🙂

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