PEEPS Gone Bad

Something has gone terribly wrong with the PEEPS. It is horrendous. It is not a culinary matter. Mabel has been known to store PEEPS in the cabinet under her sink, unwrapped, for six months, until they get all stale and hard, because that's the way she prefers them. At least that's the way I remember her telling it. Sometimes my attention wanders. I could have been thinking about the cat pictures I was planning to prank Mr. K with when Mabel and I had that heart-to-heart about the PEEPS. Don't go thinking I got food poisoning from consuming those delicious, squishy, sugary little guys. I am perfectly fine...physically. But I am a bit discombobulated.

Last weekend, I bought myself a pack of Snowman PEEPS at Save-A-Lot. The kids don't like them, so they were safe sitting on the kitchen counter for several days. Today, I spied them and thought, "Mmm...I'll have some PEEPS after lunch." Here I sat at my New Delly, perusing the news, checking to see if a foreigner flung a shoe at a high-ranking U. S. official today, the pack of PEEPS at my left elbow. They must have been telepathically shouting, 'Eat me! Eat me!' because I just had to rip open that pack and chow down on some concentrated sugar.

You know how it goes. Nobody can eat just ONE PEEP. I ate another. Then I decided that there would only be one PEEP left on the top row, and I ate a third. Three PEEPS at a sitting should be enough for anybody. But no. I kept hearing that refrain in my head, 'Eat me! Eat me!' So I had another. And another. And another. Then I looked at the pack to see how many were in it. The answer is nine. Snowman PEEPS come in boxes of nine. There was only one row left. That's when I saw it. You know, like on that Seinfeld episode. IT. Like when Elaine said, "He took IT out." I saw IT. On those Snowman PEEPS.




That is just wrong, people. Snowmen should not be advertising OH SO FERVENTLY that they are SnowMEN. I can't believe the folks at the PEEPS factory have not called this to the attention of JustBorn, Inc., the makers of sweet, sweet PEEPS. I understand that the yellow chick PEEPS have that little tail where the marshmallow stretches before making the next yellow chick. The bunnies and pumpkins and ghosts do not have this appendage. They look like they are punched out, like with a cookie cutter. These SnowMEN need to be redesigned. People will laugh their a$$es off. The JustBorn, Inc. factory is going to be blamed for a lot of a$$less people.

I thought maybe it was just me. Perhaps my mind was in the gutter. I called down my #1 son. "Oh. PEEPS! Can I have one?" He must have forgotten that he doesn't like them, and lets them grow stale every Easter. I told him, "Take a look at them. Do you see anything wrong?" He started to laugh. A big belly-laugh, just behind his recently-developed two-pack abs. Thank the Gummi Mary, he's young. His a$$ stayed on. "That's JUST WRONG!" I asked him to take a picture of them for me, against a dark background. He snatched them up and took off. I was hoping that the copious amount of sweat that permanently floods his palms did not start digesting my PEEPS. He took a picture of this smiling, inappropriate trio on his Science Fair display board, on top of the Mansion pool table. When he came back with my damp PEEPS, he still wanted one. But only one.

This gives me the heebie jeebies, what with those SnowMEN calling, 'Eat me! Eat me!' There are two left. They may not survive the night.