Easter is a tricky one for me.

Like everyone else in the country I’ve always looked forward to an extremely long weekend and, while at Uni, it was always lovely to swap sitting on my Bournemouth sofa for my parent’s sofa in Swindon for two weeks.

But none of my friends or family celebrate the holiday for it’s original meaning. Well, except for having their last supper on the Thursday, torturing their bodies (with booze) on the Good Friday, sleeping all day on the Saturday and resurrecting, to the surprise of their mother, on the Sunday.

Other than that, it’s (prepare yourself for student, hippy speak) an easy excuse for our Krafty Cadbury friends to sell some excess chocolate. However, unlike Christmas, prices go down instead of up.

It still boggles my mind that for 361 days of the year it costs me, on average, 55p for my beloved Crunchie bar. Yet, between these sacred four days, I can bag myself two of the honeycomb treats, alongside a chocolaty egg, all neatly wrapped in a vacuum packed case and bunny covered cardboard box, for a cool one pound sterling.

It’s all right though, some lucky toddlers in the Ivory Coast and Ghana will be getting some much needed over-time.

So, not only did he die for our sins, but the memory of Jesus’ struggle managed to guilt the major chocolate firms in to giving us cheap sweeties. He truly WAS our savour. Personally I’m a crisp man and always felt that Walkers have missed out on a perfect marketing opportunity for years: CruciChips, the official snack of Jesus Crisp our Savoury. Ahem.

But of course, I’m a hypocrite. As I type this drivel I’m sat with a face full of Crème Eggs, stomach full of an ‘Easter roast dinner’ and am currently eyeing up my next cocoa-based victim.

My excuse? I’m English.

I’m too polite to not give out eggs. How on Earth could I accept a gift from someone else without returning the favour?

And this is my theory behind why, in a society where the church gets over-looked and atheism is in vogue, we still celebrate religious holidays without batting an eyelid. We are merely politely continuing the traditions given to us by our loved ones.

I’m more than happy to put my hand up and say I disagree with the ideological views behind this weekend, but if you take my egg away, I’ll snap your arm off.

And why not? As I said in the blog on Valentine’s Day (ooh, self referential), if events such as Easter force us to be nice to each other, at least we are guaranteed a handful of happy times.

Is it depressing to think not everyone is nice by nature? Yes. Would I prefer it to be different? Of course. But I’m afraid it’s just the time we live in. So let’s grab the smiles while we can.

Plus, the eggs will probably be reduced to 50p tomorrow.