One pill makes you larger / And one pill makes you small

Who’d be a bun­ny in Bali?

We tried to be good par­ents this week­end but things came togeth­er and plot­ted to con­found us.

Brigid decid­ed that an East­er egg was the right to thing give Bel­la, our teenag­er, and so went into the local deli and, not­ing that the eggs were about $10, opt­ed to buy a choco­late East­er bun­ny. As you do.

We arrived back from din­ner in Ubud last night to find two very sat­is­fied dogs, lick­ing the tin­foil and then going utter­ly spare, run­ning around the prop­er­ty and across the fur­ni­ture as the sug­ar hit.

Our friend Sarah had also bought Bel­la (and her kids) a choc­cy bun­ny. The same night she went to a school play and sat on her bag – bun­nies inside – mash­ing said rab­bits in her bag.


In des­per­a­tion, I went into the local Hardy’s Super­mar­ket this evening and found the very last lit­tle choco­late bun­ny on the shelves. It was Rp38.000 and I took it to the girl at the check­out. It can be quite a wait there. The con­cept of a queue for less than a dozen items is still alien in Bali, so I wait­ed for 15 min­utes patient­ly whilst the lady buy­ing 40 serves of pot noo­dles was processed. The check­out girl, quite young, had also not mas­tered the art of enter­ing the item once then chang­ing the quan­ti­ty to 40 and was run­ning each one past the scan­ner indi­vid­u­al­ly. After a while, you don’t blink at such things here.

Then it was my turn and she tried to run the bar code across the scan­ner a cou­ple of time – to no avail as it was on the tin­foil wrapped around the bun­ny. She then smiled at me and decid­ed to make the code more read­able and, putting the bun­ny down, put her hand on it and pushed it flat. Choco­late oozed out the side of the now flat­tened foil and she smiled again as the read­er respond­ed. Cok!, I said, sek­erang ini tidak bagus, Saya tak mau. Which rough­ly trans­lat­ed is: what in gods name have you done? I don’t want it now! You must take it said she, no said I. She then rushed off with­out a word and the young guy behind me start­ed laugh­ing. Ten min­utes lat­er she returned, flat bun­ny, now with part of the foil miss­ing, in hand. Ma’af Bapak, Mungkin Habis (sor­ry sir, it looks like it’s out of stock) she said with a grin and start­ed to put the choco­late road­kill into my plas­tic bag and punched the total key.

No…I don’t want it.

You must take now, bro­ken.

Yes, but you broke it.

Sor­ry mis­ter, you must pay.


And she decid­ed that I was a lost cause and demurred. I guess it went back on the shelf.

This island can be very Har­ry Enfield. Bel­la got a choco­late bar.

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