If you've never had a Peeps, know this: It's like eating a tablespoon of sugar lovingly dusted atop a mouthful of your gramma's cellulite. Pretty sure those are the two main ingredients, just behind yellow dye number gross. This is punishment candy. It's the equivalent of getting a turd in your stocking at Christmas.
And it's not like they look delicious, either. The original Peeps just look like someone took a log of border collie crap, rolled it in yellow sugar, put some eyeballs on it with a brown Sharpie and called it the greatest Easter candy joke of all time.
Of course they're gluten-free. But so is the vomit of every gluten-free-er on the planet. (Opting out entirely is obviously gluten-free. Air don't have no glutes. I just wanted to offer up another chewable option, if that was needed.)
Ever tried to squish a Peeps? It snaps right back to its chick form. That's some weird-ass science food shit right there. There's nothing natural about Peeps. In fact, the only way you can melt a Peeps is to whisper "locally sourced, organic, farm-to-table" at them three times in a row. It's like direct sunlight to a Gremlin. If you ask Whole Foods clerks where you can find Peeps in their store, they will forage your nuts on the spot. And you will have deserved it.
If you're the Easter bunny in your home and you put Peeps in the baskets for your children, know that the message you're sending them is, "I am disappointed in you as a person, and you can never make it up to me." For now, they'll just think the Easter bunny sucks. But when they turn 25 and learn that you were the Easter candy chooser, they'll have a specific and justified hatred for you.
When you're in Walgreens on Easter eve, choose wisely. Do not make eye contact with the Peeps packaging, lest ye be lulled into thinking, "They're kinda cute. And they'd look good in the basket." No, ma'am. Do not use Peeps as basket filler. Using Peeps as wood filler, fine. But don't use them as basket filler. That's what Cadbury eggs are for.
Stoppit, Peeps. Just stoppit.