Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Feel The Burn

I know I do. I've been popping Tums like they're tic-tacs. The guys are swearing I've gone all crazy hormonal and tried to off them. As if. I had to inform them that death by dinner is not the sign of the crazy.

Paranoid little things, aren't they?

I should try to set the story. It was a dark and stormy night...

No wait, not that type of story. Try again.

I was having some serious casserole blues a few weeks ago so I went to re-looking at the cookbooks. The blues were more from I don't wanna cook! I'm talking I started to sneer when asked what was for dinner and since the peeps ask for food like all the time, it wasn't pretty.

I tried to go on strike and refused to cook. We ended up eating late that night. No sympathy.

I told Hubby that when the kids are out of the house I will be packing up my pots and pans and shall declare myself delivered from the chains of the kitchen. I think he may have made some secret deal with the boys. I bet he will hold me to it through graduate school.

Hey, I can dream that one of my kids could go that far. It's not like I stay focused on reality all that much anyway, so don't bust my bubble.

Anyway, I've come across recipes I've, for whatever reason, turned down and tried to give it another go. Wednesday's dinner proved that was a mistake.

Hubby dear can handle the spice. I are a wimp and have suffered from his teasing when I've been known to soak my tongue in milk. I wish I were kidding. He said I was exaggerating as there were no flames shooting out of my mouth. Whatever.

I still blame him as I tried his chili. There I was holding a cup of milk with my tongue just having a soak. In my defense, a friend of his from work tried some and named it Flaming Hoop from what it did to his boo-tay. My tongue has yet to recover.

The older 2 have tried the chili and liked it. J looked at me and said don't even think about it. Although for the Superbowl, I did take some Rotel and Velveeta and made some queso which had a nice kick and it was little mister Jared who licked the bowl clean.

So I took a gamble on a chicken enchilada soup. Jared had snuck a taste and went running for the water only to demand milk. I thought this was just another J response until I tried it. Good gravy! Lets just say, someone ended up in the bathroom later that night and did ask for a snow-cone to sooth the burn.

I'm still pissed they all laughed at me.

Yet I'm the one accused of doing them in??

2 comments:

Lauren said...

Aw, man I can't do spicy things. My cousin tried to spoon some spicy rice off on me the other night (okay not really, it was actually just part of her parents' dinner menu) and I couldn't eat the stuff.

Kerri said...

hehehe I SO know how you feel... I had really super spice ribs up north with Doug's folk's one time, and I was up all night with a burning tummy. It was HIDEOUS!