Leftover Peeps

Bought eight dozen peeps the other day.   Yes, I actually like peeps, love them, cruelly nuke them in the microwave to get them big and plump and gooey.   But the eight dozen peeps were not for me.  You see, I agreed to decorate a cowboy hat for the Boys and Girls Club of Ada County.  It's their annual Wild West fundraiser and Kelly Knopp sent out a call to artists to decorate a hat for their centerpieces.  So after wracking my brain for ideas, I settled on peeps.   The auction is the day before Easter, and, let's face it,  peeps have personality.   So I put little peepsize bandanas around all the girl chicks and peepsize black stetsons on all the boy chicks. And no, it's not a piece on the social constructs of gender, because I honestly didn't know if they were girl peeps or boy peeps.   You know, there are pink and blue  and lavender peeps, but I chose the traditional yellow, middle of the why-does-the-chicken-cross-the-road peeps.   A peep is a peep - and I randomly decorated 'em, okay?

Anyway, here's the hat sitting on top of my horse, er Honda.

You know, a peep doesn't weigh anything, barely a whisper.  But I gotta tell you, this is one HEAVY HAT!  And there's still about 30 peeps left  . . .  destined for the microwave . . . one at a time.    Mwahhhhhhhaaaaaaahahahaha!

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