They were sent all the way from Seattle from a very special friend who took pity on my Peep-less run-up to Easter - which, as you might remember, I complained about last year. I couldn't wait to dig into the marshmallow-y treats, but obviously had to take some pics of my treasure trove of Peeps to share with you, dear readers, before tucking in:
Aren't they beautiful in all their pastel-rainbow glory? No? Are you British, then? Because they simply wouldn't have played a role in your childhood if you are. I, however, spent many a Easter-holiday in a family friend's backyard hunting for eggs with baskets featuring cellophane grass, Peeps, and other American goodies.
John was not impressed. "That's a lot of boxes," he commented. "You'd better eat them all, otherwise they'll go off," he said, inspecting the sell-by-date closely. "Oh never mind, they don't go off until 2012. Don't open them all then," he instructed. I didn't understand how someone could be so cold in the presence of such adorable candies. "Don't you want any?" I asked, my eyes still shining (and nearly brimming with tears from joy), mesmerized by the beautiful Peeps display before me. He wrinkled his nose. "Um, no thanks," he said, walking off. I received a similar reaction from Bindy this morning when I extended the great privilege of sharing my Peeps treats with her. "Yeah, I'm not just not that impressed with them," she said, shrugging.
Okay, whatever. I'll just bask in Peeps-heaven by myself then. Thanks, Holly!