I sold my soul to the devil. Or rather, to the Easter Bunny. He held me up with colored eggs and promises of chocolate and I ran right out to fill my end of the bargain. I bought Peeps. Yes, Peeps, those neon colored sugar-marshmallow chicks that appear every year at Easter. For some strange reason, this year the sugary creations have been torturing me. They’ve been demanding that I follow the tradition of children all over America to consume these strange little creatures.
To be honest, I’ve yet to breach the package. It is slightly frightening. The weird orange color promises the inclusion of strange food coloring. The sliding swish of unnaturally colored sugar crystals falling from side to side across the plastic sounds oddly ominous. Yet I will eat them. Probably right after writing this. More proof that this world is a strange place, that we can be tempted by things we know, absolutely know, are bad for us. Even worse, we crave those terrible things, the overly processed foods, strangely colored, preserved and formed into unnatural shapes and flavors.
Fortunately for me, the Peeps appear just once a year. Once a year is not going to kill me. I’ll make myself feel better with some high quality chocolate from Chuao chocolatier in the form of a bunny (ears first, of course) knowing that even if it is not an apple at least there aren’t any unpronounceable mystery ingredients. Despite all this, and maybe because of it, I will enjoy my neon chicks and give the Easter Bunny his due.
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