Thank you God for . . . um, crummy Easter candy?

One of my guilty pleasures in life is marshmallow peeps. They're flavorless, nutrionless sugar bombs and I love them. I love the squeak of the marshmallow between my teeth. I love them fresh, frozen, stale and vaccuum compressed. (From being shipped up to altitude where they expand and then collapse.) A couple of years ago, I thought I may have over-loaded when my mother-in-law sent us (me--she knows that my husband hates them and I steal them from the kids) a full Easter assortment. Pink, purple, yellow, blue, bunnies, chicks . . . and some clearance Valentines heart shaped peeps that she threw in for good measure. But here I am again, happily polishing off the last row of yellow bunny peeps (the only box to come to our house this year) and finding myself thinking "Thank you, God, for peeps."

Wait a second--can I pray that? True, every good and perfect gift comes from God, but I admit that peeps are far from perfect. (Okay--mind-boggling thought: will there be such a thing as a perfected peep in the new heavens and earth? If God perfects these blinding little things, what will be left?) And yet, I am thankful. I like them. In a completely non-theological-ressurection-what? sort of way they speak Easter to me. And in all circumstances it is appropriate to give thanks, right?

I could almost hear God laughing at me. "You're welcome. I'm glad you like them." I know that tone. I use it on my children when I buy them that utterly atrocious gift they've been begging for--a blindingly pink and sparkly t-shirt with the latest favorite cartoon character on it. Spaghettios. Electronic toys with obnoxious sound effects. Easter candy--those chocolate bunnies that don't measure up to my chocolate-snob-at-least-70%-cacao standards. There's a particular, wonderful squeal of delight that children give when they get the gift of those low-quality delights that we don't usually "waste our money on."

And I wouldn't get those things for them at all if I didn't love that squeal. Love to see their faces light up. Even if the object itself makes me shake my head.

Thank you, Lord, for marshmallow peeps. Amen.