Years ago I mentioned my enjoyment of Peeps, the marshmallow treats in a variety of shapes depending on the holiday. Since that time, I have never had to purchase another Peep. I should have seen the potential danger.


Throughout the year, packages would appear on my desk, on the pulpit, or both. Some holidays, some appeared months after Peep appropriate holidays. After all it takes quite a while for a Peep to go bad. I am not entirely sure which has a long life span Twinkies or Peeps, but my money is on the Peep.


This year I made comments about how pleased I was to have not been buried with Peeps during Easter. Members of the congregation indicated that I should not speak too soon as they would be sold at half price after Easter Sunday. More dire words have not been spoken.


Beth Bickley and Ann Von Almen are diligent, hard working deacons and ministry leaders of our church. They also have devious senses of humor. They live up to my mantra with my wife, “she never gets even, she gets ahead.”


Two weeks ago they began their plot by taking quick and surreptitious measurements of my Ford Escort. They needed to know how many Peeps would be needed for their plan. I have no idea how long it took to gather the needed marshmallow arsenal, but last Sunday they thought themselves well prepared.


Their plan was based on a TV reality show called “Trick My Truck”, they planned to “Peep my Ride.” But I didn’t play as expected. Rather than driving my Escort, I took my wife to work at the hospital and then drove our Prius to the church. The Prius has a larger windshield and surface area than the Escort. They didn’t have enough Peep power. Not to be thwarted by my actions, they visited Walgreens next door and struck a deal with the manager to buy ALL his to see pictures of what they were going to do.


Ann and Beth slipped out of the Sanctuary, during my sermon to begin their work.




Beth’s daughter Amanda Aguilar arrived to assist in the plan. As I went to the entrance to greet those who attended church, and actually stayed to listen to the sermon, “What is Sin,” I noticed a poster board on the outside of the sanctuary door. It read, “You have heard of the show ‘Trick My Truck’ how about ‘Peep My Ride.’ They’re here!”


I knew I was in trouble and did not want to see what awaited me around the corner of the church. After greeting the majority leaving the sanctuary, I ventured around the corner to see what had occurred. To say that I boldly went to face my future is an exaggeration, I stuck my head around the corner of the church just enough to get a peek at the peeps. Everyone was gathered around what had once been a silver Prius.


Coming of the “Just Peeped” sign were to tails made from empty Peep boxes. They were empty because I had a new sunshade for the windshield.



The sign in the front read “…And on the eighth day God made Peeps! And they were good!”


I learned how fortunate I was since the car was locked and the ladies didn’t know that the car keys were on my desk.


Since this event, I have been giving away boxes of Peeps in honor of Beth Bickley and Ann Von Almen and living in trepidation of what may happen next. These ladies are not satisfied with the status quo, they want to go one step farther. Ask not for whom the peep tolls, it tolls for thee (apologies to John Donne).

Shalom, Darrell