It's Easter, the holiday that every year forces me to face my fear of Peeps. Maybe fear isnt the right word but somehow in my childhood marshmallow Peeps got mixed in with the feelings that go along with witnessing a baby chick fall out of a nest and flop helplessly on the ground until it meets with some sort of horrible, lonely, desperate death while still chirping its little heart out. So when I see Peeps all wrapped up in their cellophane packages it's with a combination of sadness and trepidation that makes me want to rescue and protect them all. I'm not saying it's sane I'm just saying its true, I can't take looking at Peeps let alone watch anyone eat one.

My mother knows this.

Every year since I can remember shes presented me with Peeps in my Easter basket and when I moved away from home shed UPS a special care package. She makes sure that she underlines the company name Just Born, in case I missed that.

Why?

Because she thinks its funny.

And my mother is very, very mean.