It’s the most wonderful time of the year… and no, I’m not talking about Christmas.
It’s the day after Easter—when all the candy that didn’t sell suddenly feels like it was made just for me.
Sure, there are chocolate bunnies, Reese’s Peanut Butter eggs, Cadbury eggs, and all the other creations made by the magical bunnies of Easter.
But none of them come close to my favorite.
Peeps.
I almost never use a cart when I go into the store. I’m more of a “I need three things and a basket will do” kind of guy.
But the day after Easter?
I take a cart.
And if I’m lucky… I come out with it filled with Peeps.
Remember the Seinfeld episode with Elaine and her case of sponges?
Yeah… it’s kind of like that.
I could even argue both purchases were made in the pursuit of pleasure—but if my kids read this and ask me to explain, I won’t.
I’m going to take my diabetes educator hat off and put it under both the mattress and the box spring so it can’t hear what I’m about to say:
Peeps are awesome.
Now, there are not many things I savor when my blood sugar is low. Typically, I act like a raccoon in a dumpster when it comes to food in the kitchen.
But Peeps have something about them.
The sugary coating.
The marshmallow inside.
The way they somehow manage to be both too much and not enough at the exact same time.
And it’s not just at home.
I’ve written before about my endurance racing, and that during the activity, you have to eat as many calories as you can, and Peeps are a favorite of mine. Because at some point, whether it’s the heat, the physical exertion, the dehydration, or all of the above, you just don’t want to eat anymore.
But offer me a Peep?
For reasons I cannot scientifically explain… I’m in.
Did I mention the flavors?
Oh, the flavors.
Sure, you’ve got the traditional chicks and bunnies in yellow, pink, blue, lavender, green, and orange.
But then things get… weird.
And not just at Easter.
You can be alone on Valentine’s Day and not have to share your Peeps.
You can avoid answering the door on Halloween and keep all the ghost Peeps for yourself.
And instead of 25 days of chocolate in December… you can have 25 days of Christmas-shaped Peeps.
We’ve reached a point where Peeps are no longer seasonal.
They’re a lifestyle.
Only Just Born Quality Confections can give us cotton candy, birthday cake, and sour watermelon.
And apparently, that wasn’t enough.
This year, you can pair your Peeps with your favorite foods.
Don’t have time for breakfast? Grab a Strawberry Pop-Tart… and marshmallow chicks inspired by it.
Don’t want to drink SunnyD because you’re afraid you’ll turn orange? No problem—have SunnyD-flavored Peeps instead.
Craving a cold soda? You can have a Dr. Pepper… with Peeps that somehow capture its mysterious 23 flavors.
And if you’re loyal to a specific store? There’s a good chance they have a flavor you can only get there.
Target has SunnyD.
Kroger has Chili Lime Mango.
Walmart has Butterbeer and Cookies & Cream.
At some point, Peeps stopped being candy… and became a full-blown identity crisis.
Because what are we doing here?
There are now more Peeps flavors than there are decisions I make in a day about my diabetes—and that’s saying something.
We’ve reached a point where you don’t just buy Peeps.
You curate them.
“This year, I’m more of a sour watermelon guy.”
“I’m pairing my morning coffee with cotton candy marshmallow chicks.”
It’s absurd.
Completely absurd.
…and I love every second of it.
Now, if I really wanted to be precise about this…
A standard treatment for low blood sugar is 15 grams of carbs.
One serving of four Peeps marshmallow bunnies contains about 28 grams of carbohydrates—so roughly 7 grams per Peep.
Split that into two groups of two, and you’ve got a pretty reasonable treatment.
Sure, you’re off by a gram… but you only have four in the pack. What are you going to do?
But then there’s the five-pack.
Five chicks. About 34 grams of carbs.
Which means each chick is roughly 6.8 grams.
So technically, to treat a low, I need…
2.2 chicks.
Not 2.
Not 3.
Two full chicks… and then I have to sit there and decide what 0.2 of a marshmallow bird looks like.
Do I take a bite of the head?
The tail?
Is there a standardized “fractional Peep protocol” I’m not aware of?
Because I can promise you this—
in the moment, there is absolutely nothing precise about what happens next.
And maybe that’s what makes Peeps different.
They’re not what I grab when my CGM is screaming at me and I’m halfway between the kitchen and poor decision-making.
They’re not the thing I inhale standing over the counter like a raccoon that just discovered frosting.
Peeps are different.
They’re intentional.
They’re one of the rare moments where I actually slow down, look at what I’m about to eat, and choose it—not because I have to, but because I want to.
And if you live with diabetes, you know how rare that is.
Because most of the time, it is reactive.
Numbers.
Alerts.
Corrections.
Carbs.
Repeat.
But Peeps?
Peeps are a choice.
A slightly questionable, neon-colored, sugar-coated choice…
…but a choice nonetheless.
Are they ridiculous? Yes.
Am I still buying multiple boxes the day after Easter? Also yes.
Peeps may not be the best decision for my blood sugar…
but they might be one of the best decisions for my sanity.
And honestly?
Every low blood sugar is sponge-worthy.