I do enjoy when a new season is upon us.
There’s something about that first stretch of warm spring days.
Not just one teaser day in March where everyone wears shorts and then it snows the next morning.
No.
That is some top shelf BS right there.
I’m talking about that string of nice days where you start thinking:
“Alright… we made it.” I can put my coat in back of the closet WHERE IT BELONGS !!!
I also enjoy the first day of football season.
Because for one glorious day…
My team is undefeated.
Tied for first place.
Zero bad decisions have been made yet.
The quarterback is still “promising.”
The coach still has “a plan.”
And hope… hope is still alive.
But there’s another season I look forward to.
Easter season.
Because Easter means a lot of things.
Family.
Tradition.
Chocolate eggs.
New dresses for the girls.
But most importantly…
Easter means Peeps.
Sure, Peeps are now a year round thing – and that’s fine.
But I’m a traditionalist.
I’ve been to Florida in the Christmas season and it’s just odd seeing a palm tree with Christmas lights.
And while it’s not “wrong” to put Peeps in a Christmas stocking – it just doesn’t feel right.
It’s like the Peeps-Police looked the other way, but then talked about you.
Now I enjoy Peeps.
But not like most people.
Most people open the package and eat them right away.
They may even share.
And that’s a true friend right there.
Soft.
Fresh.
That sugary marshmallow goodness.
And that’s fine.
But me?
I open the pack…
…and then I let them sit.
Not for an hour.
Not even for a day.
No, I like to let them sit for days.
Plural.
If I have enough willpower … weeks.
Because I don’t want soft Peeps.
I like them hard.
Some people call them stale.
I prefer the term … seasoned.
Peep jerky, if you will.
Dry-aged.
Like a fine steak.
Because fresh Peeps are just too easy.
I don’t want a snack that folds under pressure.
I want something that’s going to put up a fight.
Now I’m not sure what the shelf life is on a pack of Peeps.
And I’m not sure the shelf life is for opened or unopened peeps.
I need to look into that.
And that’s how you know a new season has arrived.
Not the weather.
Not the calendar.
But when a tray of Peeps is sitting on the counter … aging gracefully.
I see firewood selling on Facebook Marketplace with clarification that it has been “seasoned”.
I wonder if there is a market for “Seasoned Peeps”
Another of life’s great mysteries.
My Take on Life and Events 