Were you to see That Girl and me crouching in front of the microwave, laughing like idiots while watching Peeps expand into large marshmallow spheres, you might at first be inclined to blame the second bottle of wine. However, last Easter That Girl had stocked up on Peeps just so we could nuke them. She wanted me to see the glory that is a Peep in a microwave. Glorious it is, my friends.
The yellow granulated sugar and graham cracker crumbs all over the floor the next morning, those you can blame on the wine.
