My name is Shari.......

....and I am a Peep-a-holic.

I admit it. I can't help myself. It is my one weakness in life (OK, OK, second weakness if you count chocolate).

Now, before any of you run to close your window shades for fear I might be lurking outside, I'm not that kind of peep-a-holic. No, I'm talking about those irresistible marshmallowy goodness peeps that come out every year about this time.

I don't know exactly when this obsession of mine started, but I'm fairly sure it's my mother's fault. From a very early age, I remember having those things in my Easter basket each year. Maybe it's the pure sugar rush I get from them. I don't know. All I know is I lose all reason when a box of those things are around me. And anyone who knows me knows I prefer them stale. Poke a hole in 'em, let 'em sit for a few days and then voila, you have the perfect peeps. A former coworker of mine used to buy me boxes upon boxes of them and squirrel them away in my desk drawer for easy access. I think it's safe to say I liked that guy. If only I could get him to come stock my home office with them, I'd have it made!