I stopped in my tracks, stared at the Peep on the dining room table, and fully realized something I should have thought of years ago: Peeps are the cockroaches of the candy world.
That Peep had been sitting there for weeks, slowly turning into a rock, but otherwise staying unchanged. No bugs cared about it. Mold stayed away. EVEN THE DOG IGNORED IT.
We’re talking about the dog who will eat anything that fits in her mouth, and sometimes things that don’t or shouldn't. She eats my dirty underwear out of the laundry basket nearly daily, but Peeps? Peeps are not meant to be eaten.
They are meant to be hot-glued to things.
The point was proven weeks ago when I pulled out the Peeps Easter topiaries that we made years ago. Those Peeps just sit there, looking cute and as good as new. They never change, but rather just stare at you, like any respectable non-food would.
Upon realizing that Peeps are the cockroaches of the candy world, I decided it was time to hot glue them to more things. ALL OF THE THINGS, EVEN!
First up, a fancy Peep wreath.
I really wish I had thought to do this earlier because it was SO easy. A foam wreath form, some hot glue, a few bucks worth of Peeps, and a bow: That's all it took.
It's cute! And indestructible! In fact, that wreath will last longer on this earth than I will. Mark my words.
The next HOT GLUE ALL OF THE CANDY COCKRAOCHES! project was the brainchild of the resident 8-year-old. She of many creative thoughts decided it would be cute to make something wearable with a Peep.
So we did.
As a matter of fact, yes, that is a Peep hot-glued to a headband. I'm expecting clothing designers to take notice any moment now and start making it a hot runway look.
Our masterpiece, however, was the other idea we had for making something wearable out of Peeps.
What cat wouldn't want to wear a Easter bonnet made out of Peeps?
Um, that cat. THAT cat did not want to wear an Easter bonnet made out of Peeps. She will wear costumes and clothes, but candy cockroaches? NOT A CHANCE.
The cat won't look me in the eye anymore. It's like she's mad or something.
If I die in my sleep tonight, you will know that I was murdered by the cat. Her weapon of choice will be a 3-year-old, rock-hard Peep.
More from living