Wanna know a secret? I don’t like Peeps. I think it’s the sugar on the outside.
I know: I’m the Sugar Queen. How can there be too much sugar? It perplexes me as well.
But it’s not my sweets reputation that I’m worried about. I’m keeping it a secret because Kiefer put some Peeps in my Easter basket. Bless his little heart: he didn’t know I don’t like Peeps. Heck, I didn’t even know. I’d never tasted Peeps before.
Kiefer: Do you like Peeps?
My Thoughts: I’ve never actually had one, but if I say that, he’s gonna tease me for being a picky eater and not trying new things. They’re just marshmallow and sugar, right? How can you go wrong with that?
What I Said: Sure. Nothing gives me more pleasure than biting the head off a marshmallow bird.
But I gave Peeps one last chance to redeem themselves.
I made a Peep smore.
And it was delicious. And it was a-maz-ing to watch one blow up in the microwave. Toasting them over the fire worked, too, but I prefered to watch the Peep swell up to softball size.
Favorite Comment From Last Post: “For your soccer game, you should most definitely be wearing lingerie. There will be an underwear runway for you to strut on. Make sure to have three glasses of wine to really make the undies pop.”—Blissful Britt