peeps! Easter used to be the best holiday ever, except for Halloween, which is like Christmas only with more chocolate and legal tormenting of Mr. Troutman down the street. Momma always made us these little nests of that fuzzy plastic stuff with peeps and chocolate eggs and peanutbutter eggs and malted milk balls and those hand blown eggs her grandmother taught her to make when she was a little girl.
Nowadays Easter isn't so great.
Three years ago Momma and Jillian got into a fight on Easter over something about my favorites, the sugar peeps, and about eating and getting sick on purpose and I can't even imagine getting sick on purpose mostly because of how bad the taste puke is in your mouth and no matter how much you brush your teeth it doesn't go away for hours. And I don't even want to talk about what comes out your nose, but it does come out there, and then later, just when you think you're all done with the sick and the smell, you blow your nose and there it is again; a piece of pepperoni you threw up is on the tissue when you look at it and there's that smell again.
So Easter stopped being fun then and now all we get is a box of peeps each.