Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Peeps: A History and Gallery

I always received Peeps in my Mom's lovingly-crafted Easter baskets. (Seriously, they were great and continued all the way through college and afterwards. Bags-I-still-use-they're-so-cute instead of baskets, Godspell on CD, headbands, no white chocolate -- heaven!)

I always liked them just fine, somewhere in between a Cadbury egg (creme filled, NOT caramel, what an abomination) and a hollow chocolate bunny. But it wasn't until my high school chemistry teacher, Mr...Mr...?? Help, Michaela?? What was his name?! Old age has officially set in. Moving on while I weep.

It wasn't until Mr. Cute But Dull Chemistry Teacher Man dedicated a class to the Peep and its chemical makeup that I truly fell in love. How had I missed all its glorious virtues? Why had I forsaken it for the more easily loveable egg?

His finale consisted of a solitary Peep, placed on a plate into the microwave. Time set to thirty seconds. We all watched in silent horror and amazement as the Peep blew up to enormous, yellow, sugary proportions. All the while, Mr. Teacher is kneeling down, looking inside, squeaking: "Peep. Peeeep. Peeeeeeeeeep. Peeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep."

It was life changing.

And ever since, it's been important for me to shove as many of these chick shaped confections in my mouth as possible. I've gotten cheap, as well as senile, in my old years and make myself wait until the day after Easter to purchase because the sales are too good to be true. (A box of Peeps for 25 cents?! Build me a Peep swimming pool!)

Usually there are rows and oodles of my tiny friends left after the big day, but something happened this year! Could it be the Recession that's forced Moms into buying Peeps instead of chocolate? Because my neighborhood Walgreens was completely devoid of yellow Peeps. (Other colors, anything made with red dye, is unacceptable to my palate.)

I panicked. Could this be the year I experience the bitter heartache of a Peepless spring?

But just in time I recalled another Walgreens, placed in a shady neighborhood I would only visit in an emergency. Obviously this was one.

The result? I'll let the following tell my triumph:


  1. 9 BOXES OF PEEPS? My how spoiled you are.

  2. I now have a new desktop background.

  3. This is very hilarious.

  4. cindy3:22 PM

    If you are stocking up for pre-school classes, you might have to get permission to use these...
    How many peeps per box? Funny.
    Cindy C

  5. bye i'm obsessed with you.

    love, kalen.

  6. Build me a swimming pool full of peeps too. What do you fill it with? Is it constructed of peeps? Or is it filled with peeps? Or both?

    Pics = hysterical.

  7. christie4:57 AM

    You are seriously adorable.

  8. Mr. McKay! love him. Chem is try.
    remember how he would tell us these crazy stories about his wife and how bitchy she was?

  9. LOLOL.

    i thought you were kidding when you said you were going to write a peeps post .. i should have known better.

    the pictures are priceless and maybe now, just maybe ..i'll have to actually try one. i still have yet to see any at the store. maybe we don't even have them in canada?

    anyways. you're frigging hilarious.

  10. Mr. McKay!!! It rings so true now, yet it was nowhere near my tongue.

    He really did tell us the most inappropriate marriage stories. (One about sailing and fighting?) I think he might have been a man on the edge.

    Now, re: stocking up for pre-school classes. I have zero intention of sharing my gold so no worries about getting permission from the authorities.

    re: Peeps swimming pool. It'd be filled with them and maybe the sides would be made of them, so a shallow dive wouldn't injure.

    And re: everyone else: thank you for the Peep and BJA love! We both appreciate the thumbs ups. And hope we've inspired another population into indulging.

    And now, a sugar coma.


Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.