Confession: I’ve never been a big fan of Peeps.
The little marshmallow chickens and bunnies are everywhere during Eastertime and—as it turns out—other times of the year, too. Created in the 1940s, Peeps were made, one at a time by hand, at the Rodda Candy Company in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. The business was sold in the 1950s to Just Born Quality Confections.
The rest, as they say, is history.
These days, more than two billion Peeps are manufactured—NOT by hand—every year.
The bunny shape was added in the 1980s and the creative juices kept flowing. Though yellow, pink and blue Peeps in Easter baskets are still the way most people think of them, candy-lovers can buy pumpkin and ghost and cat Peeps at Halloween, tree and stocking and gingerbread men Peeps at Christmas and heart-shaped Peeps in the weeks surrounding Valentine’s Day.
When a friend posted on social media a couple of weeks ago that he’d found Dr. Pepper chick Peeps at Walmart, my curiosity was piqued. I could buy a package and eat them and write a column about it! Or could I? As easy as it sometimes is to bang out 650 words on a topic that—by all rights—probably doesn’t merit 650 words, perhaps this wasn’t it.
Then it occurred to me that, since I was soon headed to Denver to spend spring break with my kiddos, I could take Dr. Pepper Peeps to them (and perhaps some of their friends) and see what they thought.
But wait. I was flying on Frontier, which charges not only for checked bags but also for carry-on luggage. I was so determined to beat that system that I found a backpack on line specifically designed as an under-airplane-seat suitcase. For a good deal less than the cost of wrestling a carry-on into the plane’s overhead compartment, I could own a “personal item” that flew for free.
I planned to stuff everything I needed for seven days—including a computer, power cord, mouse and mouse pad–into the bag. Also my phone charger and watch charger and hearing aid charger and clothes and medicine and cosmetics and two paperback books in case I finished the first one on the flight out and didn’t have anything to read on the flight home.
There would definitely be no room for Peeps.
The solution was obvious. I would order them from Amazon and have them shipped to my daughter’s house, with explicit instructions not to open the package until I arrived. I could imagine squeals of delight when my grandchildren discovered what was inside. “Dr. Pepper Peeps!” they would exclaim and then tear into them with reckless abandon. Though the price for a two-pack of Peeps—twenty chicks in all–seemed high at $12.99 plus tax, I placed the order anyway.
In the week before my departure, I began noticing Dr. Pepper Peeps everywhere. Not just Walmart, but Dollar General Store, Kroger, CVS and on and on and on. And you know what? Those places sold a ten-pack of Peeps for two or three dollars.
I was outraged. Amazon had ripped me off.
Right after supper on the evening I arrived in Denver, the grandkids tore open the big brown envelope. “Oh…Peeps,” they said. “Red Peeps. That’s weird.”
“They’re Dr. Pepper-flavored,” I explained. “Cool, huh? Let’s all try one.”
Seven-year-old Oliver licked his Peep all over and made an ick face. “It tastes like spicy powder,” he said. “Not Dr. Pepper.”
Josephine, who’s 11, bit the head off her Peep and declared it wonderful. “I’m really glad Oliver doesn’t like them,” she said. “Now I can eat every one that’s left.”
And that, dear readers, is part one of a two-part story. Tune in next week for the conclusion.
(April 4, 2026)