I never won any awards for arts and crafts. I was the girl who could never cut correctly and could not be trusted with even the safety-est of scissors. But I tried. I really really tried.
A recent tradition in my family is that my sister hosts Easter in whichever city she happens to be living at the time. Three years ago, our parents came to visit, and we spent Easter morning perusing the finalists from the first-ever Washington Post Peeps Show contest.
We also spent Easter morning eating all the Peeps that my mom brought for us, but that's an old tradition. We've been getting Peeps in our Easter baskets for as long as I can remember: already out of the package and perched upon Easter grass, slowly aging to the perfectly crunchy, almost-stale state in which I prefer them.
I'll admit, in recent years we've gotten out of hand. Someone in my family sends or gives me Peeps for just about every holiday for which they're produced. When we looked in our Christmas stockings this year, I turned to my mother and said, "Can I trade you a pack of snowmen for a pack of trees? I don't have any trees."
I'm a Peep hoarder because I finally gave in to the temptation to make a diorama of my own.
Our own, that is.
Next, I'll tell you a little about my partner in crime and our 2009 diorama effort. Stay tuned!
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