…I’m still going through Peeps withdrawal. Peeps, peeps. Marshmallow chickies and bunnies. Pink sugar, yellow sugar.
Oh, I love them so much I can taste the difference between the pink sugar and the yellow sugar.
I can taste the eye, and it’s only painted on.
You don’t love Peeps? Maybe you haven’t had them properly aged yet. They’re only good stale. You buy them. You slit open the package. You go away for a few days. Come back, when you can knock on the counter you got some Peeps there.
Oh, Peeps are good. They’re seasonal. We can’t just go get them now. We probably want them now. Gotta wait. Peeps molt in spring like soft-shell crab.
Then they come out and they’re 49 cents a box, not too bad. Day after Easter- ten cents a box!!!
Eat em ’til you faint. Think- “I’ll never want these things again.” A week later, you’re looking for drug dealers. “Hey, Hey, I got $100, you got Peeps?”
1991 prices, 49 cents a box. They’re at least $1 a box now. I have it on good authority that there will be a box for me tomorrow. I’ll take the plastic off and let them sit about a week. THEN they’ll be ready to eat, or nuke.