You’re gonna’ hate me for this, but I lost 5.6 pounds Easter week, despite having whipped up back-to-back Betty Crocker bunny cakes suffocating in cream cheese frosting. 

Yup, I ate like an Easter chick. Salmonella be damned, all I indulged in were two licks from the batter bowl and a measly Peep. All for the dumbest reason: sheer vanity. I want to look smokin’ in my teeny weeny polka dot bikini (fine, mom-tastic tankini) this summer. In my best Jon Lovitz doing his best Harvey Fierstien, I ask, "Is that so wrooooong?" 

But wait. Hold your poison dart. I have a small-but-mighty peace offering for all who stuffed themselves silly this weekend. With a little inspiration from our friends at Shine, I give you three quick, no-brainer ways to reconcile those guilty Easter excesses:

1. Play outside with your kids. You sort of owe them for last night's midnight basket raid, right? So unplug the Wii, grab a ball and play catch or kickball outside. Then run. Race. Dance. Freak your kids out and do the worm. Anything! Just move for one Green Hour. Don’t forget to stretch first.

2. Walk it out. For at least 10 to 15 minutes. Lace up your organic Simple ecoSNEAKS, get to steppin’ and kiss yesterday’s jelly beans all-gone. Recommended iTune: Unk's dirty South "Walk it Out." 'Sure gets my booty ba-donkin’ down the sidewalk. Oh, and when you figure out what “Stop, pop and roll” means, do that do too.

3. Trash the candy. No she di-in't! Oh, yes, I did! And you can, too. Okay, maybe after biting Peter Cottontail’s chocolate head off. Yeah, you paid for it, but you don’t want to pay for all the calories and fat again and again with busted buttons and indigestion. Can’t chuck it yourself? Call in backup (my fit friend Suzanne is my personal candy assassin). Anyone but the kids, of course. Spare a few of their favorite Easter vittles where you won’t be tempted.

Now—quick!—get out there and feel the burn. You won't regret it (like you do that Cadbury cache?). You'll feel refreshed, reconnected to your brood and to that place bursting with lush Spring beauty, the Great Outdoors.

(Photo credit:Kim Lachance Shandrow)

Is your fancy imported olive oil supposed to taste like that—or has it gone rancid? Having always equated "rancid" with "spoiled," we were shocked to learn that rancidity is not a sudden, finite condition, as easy to spot as the furry green stuff on those back-of-the-shelf leftovers (not that we've ever experienced that ...).

Rancidity is the slow but inevitable result of oxidation. The million-dollar question: how long does it take? Extra-virgin and virgin olive oils keep at least nine months after opening. According to the Olive Oil Source, varieties containing more natural antioxidants may be good for up to three to four years, if properly stored in unopened containers. Other oils (especially particularly unfiltered oils) may be unpalatable within a year, even if stored properly. "A two-year-old olive oil may taste rancid to some, while others don't mind it," the Olive Oil Source notes. "Most people would be put off by the taste of any vegetable oil more than four to five years old."

Taste remains the best judge of whether or not an oil has gone rancid.

Preventing rancidity is essentially a game of keep-away. The Olive Oil Source advises you to keep your oils away from:

• Heat Don't store oil near or over a heat source in the kitchen. Store oil in a cool pantry or even the refrigerator.
• Light Opaque containers are best.
• Air A full, tightly capped bottle will oxidize less than a large, half-full bottle. You can help prevent large containers of oil from going rancid by spraying into the container some inert gas, available in small spray cans from well-stocked wine departments.
• Time The longer it sits, the more rancid it gets. The best prevention for rancidity is to use the oil—enjoy!

(Photo credit:contracox, stock.xchng)