I just have a quick note to report on the Peeps. They still live on our table. They’re sort of sad looking. I ate one a few weeks ago to see what it was like. Hard on the outside, but actually pretty soft on the inside, which is scary. A week or so ago George attacked a couple of Peep noses and maybe a tail. So they are falling over, missing a few comrades and a few body parts, but they are brave and they persevere.
The problem is whenever we talk about burning the Peeps, even quietly in the kitchen without George around, a little voice screams “No, don’t burn the Peeps. Don’t hurt them!” from somewhere else in the house. Mention Peeps and his little mouth turns down, and dreamy eyes swim in unleashed tears. He knows we’re talking about their demise and it saddens him. I know, I know, there’s a lesson here. I just don’t think I’m ready to learn it.
So for now we have an hard on outside, soft on the inside falling, half eaten, falling down centerpiece. It will stay until George is brave enough to throw them away or the rest of us are brave enough to burn them behind his back.
More to come…..