Every Easter I am reminded how blessed I am to live with such a loving Christian family that welcomes me back home for a weekend. Returning home for Easter weekend always gives me a push to come back and finish strong with the Spring semester by reminding me just what I will get to come home to when I finally reach the light at the end of the tunnel.

Every Easter I am also reminded that, apparently, I have very strange tastebuds...at least by popular standards.

Say what you want, hate all you want...I love Peeps.

I would almost go to the extent of saying that I am addicted to them.

Yes, you read that right. I absolutely adore those sugar-coated marshmallow treats that hop on down the bunny trail every year (or, rather, cheep on down the chicken trail) every year. They've always been one of my favorite things about Easter, bested only by Reese's Eggs at the bottom of the basket but, let's be honest, only a peanut allergy can excuse a hatred for any Reese's produces.

It hasn't been until recently that I have even really been exposed to the hateful population that seem to despise the treats that I hold so near and dear to my heart. It seems that the special evil that is reserved for those who hate all things sweet and sugary from my childhood has only emerged in the past two or three years. For those of you that belong to this group of fun-suckers, I have only one question:

Who hurt you?

Surely the innocent little marshmallow chicks and bunnies didn't. They've never hurt me and a couple of weeks ago I at almost an entire pack by myself in the span of two hours (powerlifting meets are great for this very reason.) I just don't understand what justification you have for the madness that is despising a Marshmallow Peep!

If you're one of those people that can "take 'em or leave 'em," I understand. If you're one of those people who just prefer to treat themselves with chocolate on Easter, I understand. If you're one those people that can only handle so much sugar at one time, I understand (and pity you).

What I can't understand is the joy that people get from criticizing an innocent lump of chick or bunny-shaped marshmallow goo that is coated in sugar. It's a marshmallow, no need to get all worked up about how much you dislike them. You don't see me telling you that you're a twisted human being with horrible tastebuds because you like Bounty bars and I can't stand the texture of coconut. You do your thing and I'll do mine. We can all coexist in our confectionary preferences without tearing each others' heads off.

It's just candy. It's not that serious, folks.

Hate on these little bites of delicious, sugary goodness all you want, I'll definitely take your share.