As I tidied the kitchen the other day, I noticed a candy cane hanging forlornly from the fruit basket. I thought it was time to toss it out, being nearly Easter.

It happens almost every year, the leftover candy canes. None of us really likes them, but Christmas isn’t Christmas without them. Candy canes in the stockings are like milk and cookies for Santa—you’ve got to do it, even though you know it’s silly (Santa really wants beer and chips, after all). I buy as few as possible, but the smallest box they come in contains six of them. That’s about six more than we really want to eat. The kids, being kids, manage to eat theirs eventually, though they are the last of the Christmas treats to go. The rest get hung on the tree for decoration, then tossed into a cupboard (or this year, hung on the edge of the fruit basket).

When I start thinking about Easter, I know it is time to ditch the candy canes. Time to make way for the confections of Easter.