Spring weather hasn't quite thawed out says MINDY HAMMOND

After the heavy snow just a few weeks ago, the ewes may be nervous about delivering their babies and farmers are worried about sub-zero temperatures, which can prove fatal to newborn lambs.

Even our chickens are resisting the urge to sit on their eggs (thankfully). For many people, the most exciting bit about Easter is the chocolate and, like it or not, every supermarket has been bursting at the seams with it.

Even when the weather prevented bread deliveries, there was always chocolate.

Mindful of the girls’ exams on their return to school and the inevitable boredom a long Easter break seems to bring, I decided to book a last-minute jaunt to the sunshine (not registering we’d be away for Easter Sunday) and for the first time in living history, can you believe the girls began to moan they’d miss the festival of chocolate?

So much so, I found myself planning little Easter presents to hide in my suitcase. Just a few weeks before our departure date, I confirmed the booking and sighed with relief.

Then, 48 hours later, my sister called; she and her fiancé had finally decided on a date for their wedding – the day before we flew back. With rising panic I jumped on to the flight websites and spent several hours searching for an earlier plane – there were none that flew anywhere near Herefordshire and the only one I could find returning a day earlier flew us into a different airport at the opposite end of the country.

Still, it was worth it. After all, there was no way we were going to miss Sar’s big day. I would have to abandon my plan to drive us and leave the car in the airport car park.

It would be in the wrong place. So despite booking a cut-price holiday, the taxi to and from the airport was going to cost more than the flights – how crazy is that? But no matter, it would be worth every penny. My only hurdle was breaking it to the girls.

They didn’t mind missing the last day of the holiday at all and were both very excited about the wedding celebrations. But how would they feel about landing late at night and a three-hour drive home?

Better to keep mum on this one, I decided, and avoided any discussion about transport. Whenever the subject of our Easter break raised its head I quickly turned the conversation to the hotel and the lovely pool, fabulous restaurant and proximity to the beach.

My plan worked perfectly, until just last week when packing preparations began and the girls started to question me about the trip. “What time is our flight?” rang through the kitchen.

I know this question very well and it’s always followed by, “Where are we flying from?” and finally, “What time is the flight back?” Just as I braced myself to confess all, the buzzer sounded for the front gate and I leapt up.

It was an online delivery the girls had been waiting for, but this time I wouldn’t complain. And when I brought the parcel in they disappeared upstairs to try everything on.

The perfect distraction. My nails have grown noticeably shorter from constant nervous nibbling and my conscience is telling me I’ve made an enormous boo-boo. Had I fessed up in the first place everything would be plain (or should that be plane) sailing by now.

I’m breaking under the strain and even resorted to raiding the Easter aisle at the supermarket yesterday (sometimes chocolate really is the only answer). Thank goodness I never plumped for a job in the Secret Service – I’d be dreadful.

I struggle keeping anything secret and feel as though everyone knows I’m being dishonest. So much for preaching honesty is the best policy. I blame the Easter bunny.

It’s all his fault. After all, he sneaks about in the dead of night hiding eggs all over the place – and does anyone ever see him? No. I bet he doesn’t tell his kids about his travel plans. In fact, for all we know, several of them have been recruited into the family business.

If you happen to see two irritated teenagers and a chocolate-covered mother in a departure lounge today, look upon the poor woman with sympathy and perhaps remind those girls that mothers are for life, not just for Easter.