I looooves me some Peeps. Sugary, squooshy, neon-colored treats, ripe for the picking off Walmart shelves since the day after Valentine's Day. I've been pretty good about resisting them. Until today, I had only indulged once. They were yellow. The bunnies, not the chicks. Chicks are too asymmetrical for me. After I bite off the head of a chick, I don't know how to proceed. Should I pop the whole body into my gaping maw? Or savor it in two or three bites?
No, chicks are not my bag. I prefer the bunnies. They are a three-course snack: ears, head, torso. Okay, so the bunny's torso kind of morphs into his butt. We all have our little body image issues. Today I partook of some delectable purple Peep bunnies. I might still have some lavender sugar crumbs clinging to the corner of my mouth. Aren't you glad I don't have a webcam?
My purple Peeps were quite attractive in a marshmallow-paper-doll kind of way. I didn't take a picture of them because...well...I was wanting to rip them open and chow down. So here's a stock photo. You've seen one Peep, you've seen 'em all, right?
Except that you haven't. Really. Because last Christmas, I purchases some Peeps snowmen. They certainly looked delicious, after that long dry spell since Peeps pumpkins and ghosts went away. But when I removed the wrapping, I saw a most embarrassing sight. Fearing that nobody would believe me, I took a picture.
They're smirking, don't you think? They look like naughty, fluffy, pirates. "Yo ho ho and a bottle of eggnog!" Those rowdy ruffians had no place in a holiday snack display. It wasn't just one three-man chorus line showin' their business. The whole package was like that. All three rows. At first, I thought it was just me. Perhaps I had an impure mind. I called my son Genius, then fifteen, to take a look. "Do you see anything wrong with these Peeps?" His hoot was enough of an answer for me. I could not let these jolly gentlemen appear in public.
So I ate them.