Some days, you just have to burn your peeps.

Don’t get me wrong, I adore my mother-in-law.  She is the world’s best babysitter, an amazing cook, and I’d happily nominate her for sainthood.  However, she has very definite and shall we say, Midwestern ideas of how to celebrate certain holidays.  One of those ideas is that Easter must involve Peeps.

I am not a Peeps person.  I’m not even a marshmallow person, generally speaking, and Peeps bring out the worst in me.  They’re stale and overly sweet and the texture is nasty.  Nonetheless, every year, I get at least one Peep in my basket.  Sometimes two, if she’s being truly sadistic.

So tonight I laid out some graham crackers, broke off a couple pieces of chocolate bunny, speared a Peep on a butter knife and toasted it over the gas burner.  Then I did it again.  Easter S’mores — not perfect but infinitely better.


Posted on April 26, 2011, in my weird sense of humor. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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