A Family Tradition

Unless you've known me for a while, you're going to find this a strange revelation.

A few weeks ago, just before Easter, I mailed my father a package of Easter Peeps, pictured to the left. Look at those innocent little birds! Very sweet, right?

However, if you're observant, you'll notice something strange about that picture. Check out the same box of Peeps on the right from a different angle. Notice that little red dot on the throat? That is a first time error on my part, which Mike and I spent a long time trying to paint over with a mixture of yellow food dye and excess Peep sugar from the bottom of the package.

Let's take a closer look. Flip those suckers over!

RAWR!








This was my first attempt at being an "Easter Grinch", a tradition begun by my father several years ago to antagonize me about choosing to be a vegetarian. At least I assume that's why it was, as I don't remember either of my siblings getting "grinched".

My favorite Easter treat was Peeps, had been for years. While celebrating with my Easter basket one year, I performed my ritual slaughter: eyes, beak, *chomp!* - whole head! on one after another innocent Peep. My Dad had left a whole new pack on the counter - oh most glorious of days, more marshmallowy goodness!! *chomp eyes off* Mm... *chomp beak off* delicious... *CHOMP - the head* ... I felt something run down my chin. I looked down at my beheaded Peep, to discover that it was bleeding profusely. My loving father had managed to inject the Peep with a large quantity of red food dye. Imagine your Easter turning into something Dracula-inspired. It's really quite amazing I'm not more warped. Ever since, the blood soaked Peeps have shown up - in my Easter basket, in my dorm room, at my house, with nary a return address except that they are from the "Easter Grinch".

Anyway, this is less a tale of Peepicide on my father's part, than an homage to his handiwork. Just before Easter, I received my own package. Take a look.

Excuse the missing Peep. These things are really delicious. Note the careful bite out of the left-most one.

Note the lack of incisions on the bottom.




Still don't see anything suspicious? Neither did I. For a moment, I questioned my father's commitment to the tradition.

But let's take a closer look...

My Dad is an artistic and surgical GENIUS. I will never question again.