While Christmas is known to be the holiday season in which you pack on the pounds (your nanna would probably get offended if you don't), most of us leave Easter events the same dress size we entered. Still, the lessened potential for indulgence doesn't stop people from ruining your fun by telling you exactly how many calories are in the figolla you're halfway through biting.
If you're one of the individuals who enjoys springing the weight-gaining potential of a seasonal treat into any random conversation, we have some shocking news for you.
Most people are aware that the titan-sized cookie covered in icing sugar isn't a good replacement for the salad they pretended they'll be having for lunch. And yet, despite everyone knowing this, annually we see images screaming a figolla calorie count spread across middle aged Facebook accounts faster than a Minions meme.
Primarily used as a marketing tool by nutritionists and trainers who enjoy coaching through shame and fear, these posts are a reflection of the effect social media has had on the big business that is health and fitness.
It isn't just a sense of vanity (or insecurity from the only-perfect world we see online) that has made people go to the gym more often - it's a cult-like mentality. While our ancestors joined cults to hang out with toads around cauldrons, nowadays we all know at least one person who spends their every mornings flipping massive tires at a Crossfit class.
And as all kinds of lose-weight-fast "cleanses" or three-month "revolutions", continue to spread across our Facebook pages, telling people there's enough butter in their dessert to make Paula Deen's career rise from the dead becomes less about helping others, and more about recruiting new members.
As a nation whose most popular food is literally layers of lard-filled puff pastry, wrapped around cheese (or peas if we want the illusion of health), there is definitely a thing or two for us to learn when it comes to being more careful about the type of food we consume.
Removing a few religion lessons to instead teach kids the wonders of what vegetables can do to a person will result in a whole lot more tangible change than virtually going door-to-door to inform Maltese adults (who basically have a ħobża glued to their kitchen counter) that not every meal needs bread to be dunked into the sauce.
Instead of disturbing my toilet-scrolling to tell me how many calories there are in a figolla, why doesn't the kill-joy side of the internet create a healthier alternative? It's 2019, they're making flour out of literally everything (quinoa flour you guys, what a time to be alive) - there's always an alternative.
We don't really like grey here in Malta - our skies should be blue, and our opinions can only be black or white.
If you're calculating how many pastizzi to order in turtieri you've probably gone too far to one side. But if yo're willing to deny the squidgy center of nanna's figolla (wish I hadn't worded it like that) just to keep an extra ab in place for summer, you're also not doing yourself any favours.
At the risk of being hit with a lawsuit by Maltese influencer Tamara Webb, life really is all about balance. And while some people will go out of their way to throw you off yours, understand that the only thing I will be throwing this Easter is my shoe, at anyone who thinks I don't know figolli are fattening.