Easter’s coming. Know how I know?
On washday, there are little tiny scrunched up balls of coloured foil in ALL of my trouser pockets. Plus the trousers are now too tight. MUCH too tight. At this rate I’ll be wearing only ponchos by the time Good Friday rolls around. So in an effort to curb my cholesterol, I’m replacing premature chocolate egg eating with premature chocolate book reading. IT’S A SOLID WEIGHT LOSS PLAN. I’ll call it…
the chocolate book cleanse diet.
First on the reading list is Mr Bunny’s Chocolate Factory, by Elys Dolan. And frankly, it’s delicious. Clever Elys does the words and pictures. And exploring each page is a little like your own private Easter Egg hunt, with each spread bursting with treats.
This is a wry introduction to capitalism, starring Mr Bunny, a corporate fat cat (err bunny), who runs a chocolate factory staffed by chickens. Willy Wonka he is not! Although…. there’s a real sense of Roald Dahlism throughout the story. Anyway, the workforce is in bits. The poor ol’ chickens spend their days shovelling chocolate into melting pots, and then shovelling chocolate bars down the chutes to be gobbled up by their co-workers so they can lay fat choccy eggs. It’s a real chicken and egg situation. (Sorry, couldn’t be helped). Bunny decides to crank up production but the workers are on their knees. They’ve got rights too you know. What do they want? Salad. When do they want it? Now. Here our little readers are treated to an introduction to protests and working conditions. It’s subversive and really funny. Eventually Mr Bunny sees the light and dons a Steve Jobs-esque black turtleneck and overturns the paltry working conditions (get it? OK I’ll stop now).